Dual Identity
by Ziek Aramaik
Summary: Peter Parker is a normal teenager. Even with his Dissociative Identity Disorder, he's absolutely normal. It's Spidey, his other personality, who's the strange one.
1. Waking Up

_**Waking Up**_

Peter Parker's alarm clock woke him up, just like it did every morning. He calmly turned it off and got out of bed. Peter never really described himself as a 'morning person,' but waking up was never a problem for him. It might have had something to do with the fact that it would never interrupt a dream.

Peter Parker never had dreams. If he did, he never remembered them. Last night was no exception.

He got dressed, combed his hair, and looked at his calendar. Today was Monday, and there was a red circle drawn around the date. There weren't any words written, but Peter didn't need them. He knew what today was.

Today there was a field trip scheduled for Oscorp Industries research center, which was mostly irrelevant to Peter. Peter had other plans for today.

_This is it._ Peter sat on his bed as he pulled on his shoes. _I'm really doing it today. Without doubt, and without hesitation, I will do it today._

He consciously ignored the fact that there were several more red circles drawn on earlier dates.

_Well, I MIGHT have hesitated in the past, but I'll really do it today._ Peter stood up, placed his glasses in his shirt pocket, and grabbed his backpack. After a quick but deep breath, he opened the door to his room and walked out.

_Today is the day that I ask Gwen Stacy out. I have to do it today. I have to be bold… confident… out of character._

Peter Parker was fifteen years old. He was just slightly below average height. He was a little on the skinny side. He had medium-length brown hair and brown eyes. He was farsighted, and sometimes wore reading glasses.

Peter Parker was not the boldest or the most confident person. He absolutely was not the bravest.

He had lost count of the number of times he woke up in the morning and told himself he would tell Gwen Stacy he liked her. And every time, he would never tell her. Peter could not find it in himself to say it to her face, no matter how many times he wanted to.

Maybe that's just who he was. A person who was scared of all risks. A person without the strength to change himself. These thoughts swirled in Peter's head and left a heavy feeling in his heart.

But… he wanted to change.

Peter shook his head and walked out of his room. He walked downstairs into his kitchen and greeted his aunt and uncle. Peter ate his breakfast, said his goodbyes, and left the house.

_Just this,_ he told himself. _I just want to do this one thing. Today, I want to tell Gwen Stacy how much I like her._

* * *

The field trip would start after lunch. If—_when_—Peter asked Gwen, it would have to be before then. Peter would rather not ask out his first crush in a place as crowded and noisy as the cafeteria. The best place to ask would be in the hallway in between classes. That was also crowded, but not as much, and no one would really notice them.

Gwen and Peter weren't strangers. They both knew each other from class. They talked occasionally. After all, Peter wouldn't have a crush on someone he didn't actually know. Gwen called Peter a friend. If Peter asked her on a date, she might say yes, right?

Right?

"I should just forget the whole thing," Peter muttered to himself as his class ended. He walked out of the classroom. He had already seen Gwen a few times, but hadn't worked up the nerve to speak to her. Lunch was next. He had lost his chance.

There were lots of days in the past where he ended up not asking her out, one more wouldn't be that serious. On the other hand, with that kind of mentality he'd never end up asking her.

Peter closed his eyes and shook his head as he walked (which, in retrospect, wasn't a smart thing to do while walking). _I'll just have to ask her in the cafeteria,_ he told himself. _I can't put it off again. I can't keep not-asking her forever. It'd be better to have her say no than to keep going like this. Yeah, that's right. Even if she says no, that's better than being nervous like this, right?_

He had been asking himself, 'right?' a lot that day.

Peter was so nervous over the whole thing that he didn't even realize his eyes were still closed, until he bumped into someone. They both fell on their butts and Peter instantly started apologizing when he opened his eyes. "I'm sorry! I wasn't looking—!" It took him a moment to realize Gwen Stacy was the one he bumped into. Did this mean Fate liked him or hated him?

"It's okay Peter," she assured him, "I wasn't looking either." Gwen was about the same height as Peter. Her blond hair reached her shoulders and went perfectly with her blue eyes. She was wearing her backpack, but there was a book laying open in front of her. Apparently, she had been reading it while walking.

Peter got to his feet first and he extended his hand to help her up. Gwen held her book in one hand and Peter's hand in the other. Peter couldn't see it, but he knew he was blushing when he touched her hand. As soon as she was standing, he let go and took a step to the side.

'Crack!'

Peter hesitantly looked down and lifted his foot. His glasses were underneath, and broken. They must have fallen out of his pocket when he fell.

"Oh no," Gwen said. "I'm sorry, Peter."

"I—It's not your fault, Gwen," he hurriedly replied. He picked them up by the handle and lifted them in front of his face. Both lenses were cracked, but the glass hadn't fallen out. The other handle snapped off, though. "It's no big deal. They're not prescription glasses, just cheap reading glasses. I don't even really need them that much." Peter didn't want Gwen worrying over something as trivial as this. He carefully put the broken frames in his shirt pocket again, ignoring the handle still on the ground.

"Okay," she said. She still seemed upset, but believed Peter when he said it wasn't a problem. "Um, I'll see you later then." She quietly walked past Peter.

_Just do it!!_ Peter spun around and said, "Oh, wait!"

Gwen stopped walking and turned back to Peter. "Yes?"

Peter blushed and looked around the room, trying to get his thoughts to start thinking again. "Uh… there's something I want to ask you." _There, I said it_.

"Okay, ask me," she said simply.

_Oh crap, now I have to keep saying it!_ Peter struggled to look at her face as he continued. "Uh… Do you… if you want to… do something on Friday? Like… a date… maybe?"

"A date?" she confirmed.

Peter couldn't reply, so he just nodded.

Gwen thought about it for several seconds. Peter thought he was going to die from the nervousness. He had finally told her and now he was regretting it.

"Okay. I'd like that," she said at last.

"Y-you would?!"

"Yeah. You still have my number, right? We can call later and make plans."

"Uh, yeah, I have it, still." They had traded numbers during a group project earlier in the year. Peter hadn't dared to use it since, but he knew exactly where it was written down at home. "Uh… I…" Did she really say yes?

Gwen smiled, and she fought the urge to giggle. She could see how nervous he must have been to ask her. It was like nervousness was a paint color and it was dripping off of Peter. On one hand, it might be mean to say it was funny. On the other hand, to an observer, it was DEFINITELY funny. "Okay. Then I'll see you later," she said with a wave, and she started walking again.

Slowly, Peter waved back, despite the fact that she couldn't see him. He was trying to figure out if that had actually happened, or if his eyes and ears just started showing him stuff that wasn't real. Maybe he was dreaming. Oh wait, Peter didn't remember his dreams.

Then, Gwen really said yes. To HIM. Maybe he wasn't as nerdy as he thought.

Peter scratched that idea once he realized he was the only person in the hallway, and he was still waving.

* * *

"So, you have a date with Peter Parker this Friday?" asked Mary Jane. She was Gwen's best friend, despite the fact that she was arguably the most popular girl in the entire school. The cool thing about Mary Jane was that she didn't let the popularity go to her head, not that she wouldn't take advantage of it every now and again. She was well known for her mischievous side.

Mary Jane and Gwen were sitting next to each other in the cafeteria. They were the only people on their end of the table, so they didn't have to worry too much about eavesdropping.

"Yeah," Gwen replied, while paying attention to her food. "He asked me just a few minutes ago."

"Hmph, now I'm jealous."

Gwen paused. Then she looked at Mary Jane with confusion. "You like Peter?"

"What? No!" Mary Jane shook her head. "I meant I'm jealous you got a boyfriend before I did."

Gwen blushed slightly, but she didn't realize it. "One date doesn't make him my boyfriend, really."

"It doesn't? How many dates does it take?"

Gwen paused. "…I don't know," she said at last.

"Well, if not a boyfriend, what is he?" she asked with a smile.

"I…" Gwen paused again, longer this time. "…Guess we'll find out on Friday," she replied with her own defiant smile.

* * *

The bus soon arrived at Oscorp Industries. The teacher guided the students to the main research lab. In there, the students spread out and began talking to each other while waiting for the presentation to begin.

Peter wandered around the lab, looking at everything. Peter loved science, and all of the equipment here was catching his attention and keeping it. He had actually been looking forward to this field trip for a while. It was one of the reasons he picked today to circle his calendar (well, to put another circle on his calendar, that is).

The idea was, if Gwen rejected him, Peter would use this trip to cheer himself up. It didn't occur to him that there wouldn't be a need for that anymore. He still couldn't figure out what surprised him more: that he finally asked out Gwen, or that she said yes. He still hadn't given up on the dream theory. Oh wait, yes he did. Peter didn't remember his dreams.

Peter noticed Gwen waving to him from another part of the room. Slightly surprised, Peter walked towards her while trying to avoid bumping into other people. He reached Gwen and saw the redheaded girl she was standing with. She was slightly taller than Peter and Gwen, and she had green eyes.

"Hi Peter. I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Mary Jane. Mary Jane, this is Peter. Have you met each other before?"

Peter nodded. "Um, kind of. I think we share a class or two."

Mary Jane stepped between Peter and Gwen. She crossed her arms. "So, YOU'RE the geek who thought he was good enough to start dating the best friend of someone as popular as ME. And without my okay, no less."

Peter had no idea how to react. He waved his hands in an apologetic manner as he tried to say… something. "No… I was… well… I thought… I'm sorry!"

"She's joking." Gwen's voice was deadpan, but her expression said she was annoyed at Mary Jane.

Mary Jane smiled and put her hands behind her back. "Gotcha."

Peter stared at Mary Jane for a moment. Then he frowned and said, "That was mean."

She laughed briefly. Then she waved at Gwen and said, "I'll leave you two alone for a while. Ciao." Then she walked away, not the least bit upset.

"Is she always like that?" asked Peter.

"You should she her when she really does disapprove of someone. Do you remember the time when Flash Thompson made Debra Whitman cry during the science fair?"

"Umm…" Peter shook his head. "No."

"Oh. Well, Mary Jane was the one who dropped that water balloon on him from the school roof."

Pause. "Flash got a water balloon dropped on him?"

"Yeah. And you know what else? When Flash and Debra started dating, I almost thought Mary Jane put him up to it. She denied it when I asked her, but…"

Pause. "Flash and Debra are dating?"

"I take it you don't gossip much."

Peter looked embarrassed. "I guess not."

* * *

A man named Howard Backyard knocked on the door to one of the much smaller research labs within Oscorp Industries. A woman's voice replied, "It's unlocked." Backyard entered the lab.

Natasha Quarter sat in a swivel chair in front of a desk, looking at the door and Backyard. Behind her, on another desk against the wall, was a glass tank covered with a blanket. She had been waiting for Backyard to return since the start of his meeting. "So, does Mr. Osborn…"

Backyard shook his head. "I don't think he suspects anything."

Quarter crossed her arms and looked to the side. "We shouldn't have to worry too much. We've already taken care of all the evidence, except THAT of course," she moved her head back to indicate the tank. "And in two days we can sell the thing and be done with this."

"It's not just Osborn, you know. Anyone who sees that is a security risk."

"Yeah, You-Know-Who was very strict. 'No witnesses, no leaks, no exceptions'."

"I don't agree with his idea," Backyard said. "Working in secret means we have to steal material without Osborn noticing. There's only so much we can steal that way. Does he really think we could make a working prototype like that?"

"We're only supposed to make a prototype. After he buys it, HE'S the one who has to make it work," Quarter reminded him.

"I'm starting to get sick of the whole thing. A part of me regrets saying yes to that offer."

"Since when are you brave enough to say no to a crime boss?" she asked with a smirk.

Backyard gave an embarrassed smile. "True." The smile faded. "And on top of all this stress, some high school decided to have a field trip here. Imagine, teenagers coming to this room by mistake, taking pictures with their cell phones, putting this little secret on blogs and the like. Osborn and You-Know-Who would both have a fit."

"Now you're just being paranoid," Quarter said.

Backyard looked at her like she was stupid. He whispered, "We're breaking company protocol behind Osborn's back, making a weapon for a _crime boss_, because he waved a sack of money in front of us. If this got out Osborn would blacklist us, You-Know-Who might even kill us, and no judge in New York would save us. I'm _allowed_ to be paranoid."

Backyard took a deep break before continuing. "Besides, if a co-worker besides Osborn saw that tank, we could keep track of his movements or maybe even cut him in. We can't really do that with a random teenager we don't know."

"Good point," Quarter agreed. "But on the other hand, if a random teenager saw that tank, would anyone even notice if he just happened to 'disappear'?"

* * *

After the field trip ended, the students gathered outside the building as the bus pulled up. Some students got on the bus, but many decided to walk instead. Peter was one of the latter. He didn't want to risk running into Gwen and Mary Jane again.

Peter sat on bench as the last of the students boarded the bus and he thought to himself, _Forget nervous, I'm just plain cowardly_. Confessing to Gwen was supposed to be the hard part, but he still couldn't form a decent sentence around her, unless he was showing how clueless he was about anything.

Peter blinked. He realized something. He wasn't wearing anything on his back. _Cowardly, clueless, and now forgetful_. Peter ran inside the building to find his backpack, just as the bus was pulling away.

For whatever reason, Peter didn't see anyone inside the building. He guessed they were only 'on display,' so to speak, for the field trip.

It had taken Peter a lot of footwork, but he eventually found his backpack. Bad news: the backpack was found, but now Peter was lost.

It was a lot easier to lose your way inside Oscorp when you didn't have a dozen classmates and a tour guide to follow. Every hallway looked exactly like every other hallway. None of the doors were labeled ("WHY aren't these labeled?" he asked himself). And he still couldn't find anyone on the staff.

Even if he did find someone, would he get in trouble for being here after the field trip ended? Well, if that happened, Peter would just tell them the truth; he left his backpack inside and he was trying to find it. They would forgive him for that, right?

_I need to stop asking myself 'right?' all the time. I just know I'm going to regret it eventually._

Peter came to the conclusion that he needed to find someone. He had no idea HOW employees found their way through this maze, but they must be able to do so somehow. He systematically began knocking on every door he found. When he got no answer, he opened the door just to make sure no one was there. When he noticed the lights out, he closed the door and moved on to the next one.

Eventually, he found a room that was empty, but the lights were on. Curious, Peter stepped inside. It seemed to be a lab, but it was much smaller than the one he saw that afternoon. There were many desks crowding the room, plus one swivel chair. On the desk farthest from the door, there was a piece of white cloth covering what was shaped like a tank.

Slowly, Peter walked to the tank. Without even thinking about what he was doing, he carefully pulled the cloth off.

Something that looked like clay coated the bottom of the tank. It was mostly black, with some bits of red mixed in. It looked like thick liquid, but it was completely still. Not even a ripple on the surface. Peter didn't touch it, he just stared at it for several seconds. He heard footsteps behind him. Then Peter remembered he wasn't really supposed to be there. "Sorry, I was—"

Before he could turn his head, he heard a clicking sound. He had heard that sound several times on television, but it was nothing like hearing it in person. Despite that, he knew exactly what it was, and it terrified him.

It was the sound of a gun being cocked. "Don't move," a woman's voice said.

Despite the warning, Peter slowly turned his head. Over his shoulder he saw a tall man with short blond hair, and a woman with glasses and orange hair tied in a bun. The woman was pointing the gun at Peter.

The man said, "I TOLD you someone from the field trip might see it."

"That you did. Remind me to doubt your paranoia less often."

_What's going on…?!_

"It's too bad we have to kill a kid," the man said, although he didn't really sound all that upset.

"I know. But You-Know-Who was specific," the woman told her partner. "'No witnesses, no exceptions.' He even told us he would help cover up any murders."

_They're deciding whether or not to kill me and I don't even know what's going on!_

"I'm not trying to talk out of it, I'm just saying I pity the guy. He must be the unluckiest person in the city."

_Am I really going to die? Just for seeing that black ooze?_

_I don't want to die!!_

Suddenly, all three of them heard footsteps. The man looked in the hallway and the woman quickly hid the gun in her coat. Peter dodged to the left and hid under a desk.

The woman looked back and didn't see the kid. "Crap!" The man closed the door and locked it. They couldn't keep it locked all the time because a co-worker might ask WHY it was locked. But in a situation like this, he could afford to make an exception. The two of them walked to where they last saw Peter, and started looking under the desks.

Peter was curled up in a fetal position, eyes clenched shut, hands over his head. This was for real. One of them had a gun and he heard them agree to kill him. Over an accident. Peter agreed when the man called him the 'unluckiest person in the city.' Peter was terrified. This was happening so fast.

Peter Parker was not the boldest or the most confident person. He absolutely was not the bravest.

He had lost count of the number of times he woke up in the morning and told himself he would tell Gwen Stacy he liked her. And every time, he would never tell her. Peter could not find it in himself to say it to her face, no matter how many times he wanted to.

Maybe that's just who he was. A person who was scared of all risks. A person without the strength to change himself. These thoughts swirled in Peter's head and left a heavy feeling in his heart.

But… but he DID change!

_I don't want to die!_

He wasn't sure how, but he finally confessed to Gwen. His nerves still wouldn't let up around her, but he was changing. He was getting better. Just like he wanted. But now he was going to die, just like that.

_Not yet…! It isn't fair…!_

It was as if some impartial god of death just flipped a coin and picked him to die. Peter didn't want to die yet. Not after he finally started changing himself. Not after he finally got his wish.

_I want to stay alive…_

_please… somebody…_

_…_

_save me_

…

At that moment, Peter Parker fell asleep.

And someone else was waking up in his place.

He moved out of the desk and stood up, facing the wall. The woman noticed and pointed her gun at his back. He turned his head and looked at the two. To the woman's surprise, she heard him chuckle for a second. "I don't know what I'm doing here," he said with a smirk, "but there's no way I'm letting you knock me off now."

Backyard and Quarter blinked.

Peter ran toward Quarter, trying to get her gun. She snapped out of her shock and fired. He dodged to the left, but the bullet was so close he could feel the air next to his face. He noticed that the gunshot didn't make much noise—The woman must be using a silencer.

As he dodged the bullet, Peter (much to his embarrassment) fell down on his butt. Sitting on the ground with his back against another desk, he was about to get up, when the gun was pointed in front of his face. He narrowed his eyebrows. This sucked.

The woman said nothing. She slowly pulled the trigger.

Acting on reflex, Peter kicked her arm straight up. The bullet went above Peter's head and crashed into the glass tank on top of the desk. Using the same leg, Peter kicked the lady in her stomach. She dropped her gun and reeled backward. Backyard caught her from behind and steadied her balance. Quarter saw her gun sliding across the floor, ending up under another desk on her right. She dove and reached her hand underneath, trying to touch it.

Peter considered grabbing her, but he saw her accomplice watching him, ready to stop him if he caused trouble. Peter winced. That man was bigger than him. Peter knew the man could beat him in a fistfight, especially if the lady forgot about her gun and helped him.

Peter looked behind himself. The second bullet had broken the glass tank on the desk. The black ooze was spilling out of the broken tank and onto the wooden desk. In order to make a break for the door, Peter needed to take care of that man before that lady got her gun back. He grabbed a handful of the black ooze with the intention of flinging it into the man's eyes—

—But to Peter's shock, the ooze began covering his hand. The entire content of the tank quickly covered Peter's arm from his fingers to his shoulder, and still spread. It shocked Peter at first, but he calmed down and allowed it to cover his body. He was finished otherwise, so he hoped this black and red liquid, which was changing into some kind of suit, would help him.

Backyard was frozen with shock. Quarter, still in the reaching position, was in equal shock. They were told to create a prototype bio-suit, but Backyard and Quarter made it very clear that as long as they made it in secret, their first attempt most likely wouldn't work. The client's men would have to fix any mistakes themselves. But there was the prototype. It was obeying its programming by covering the life form that touched it. It was molding into its suit form. Their prototype was a complete success.

Soon enough, Peter was fully covered by the bio-suit. It was deep red on the forearms, torso, head, and forelegs. It was black everywhere else. Large white almond-shaped eyes covered the face. They were white on the outside, but Peter could see perfectly from the inside. He examined his hands, then the whole suit.

And he decided it wasn't half-bad. He smirked from behind his new mask.

Quarter snapped out of her daze first. She finally reached her gun and fired it at Peter. Peter acted on reflex again and jumped. He dodged the bullet completely. But more than that, he twisted upside-down in midair and landed on the ceiling. And he stayed there, sticking to the ceiling by his hands and feet.

"Whoa…" he mused, "this suit is more useful than it looks."

Quarter fired two more bullets, which Peter easily evaded while staying on the ceiling. Peter came to the conclusion that he didn't want to be target practice all afternoon. He noticed a window above the desk where the broken tank was. He leaped toward it, feet-first, and broke right through the glass.

Backyard and Quarter ran to the now open window. They looked outside, but they didn't see the kid. He wasn't on the ground three stories below, and he wasn't sticking anywhere they could see on the outside wall. The kid moved fast.

In review; the lab they weren't officially supposed to be using had a broken window. There were two bullet holes in the walls, two holes in the ceiling, and a fifth bullet in what was now a pile of broken glass. The witness had escaped. And on top of it all, the prototype bio-suit was gone. The same prototype bio-suit Backyard and Quarter were supposed to sell in two days.

"This… is very… bad."

* * *

Peter woke up with a jolt. He snapped his head around, trying to get his bearings. He was sitting on the bench outside of the Oscorp building. His backpack was sitting next to him. There was nobody else in the area.

_What… just… happened?_ He was totally flabbergasted. He remembered looking for his backpack, getting lost, two people pointing a gun at him, hiding under a desk, and then… nothing.

"I guess I dreamt the whole thing," he said. "Otherwise I'd remember what happened next, right?"

Wait, he DID remember something after that. The dream had gotten blurry at that point. Something about a red and black suit, and jumping off the walls? At least, that's what he thought it was about. "What a weird dream," he mumbled.

Peter didn't realize it at the time, but that was the first dream he could ever remember.

"Wow, it's getting late," he noted. He got off the bench, grabbed his backpack, and started walking.

* * *

As Peter walked towards his house, he began to wonder about his day. The thing in the lab had been a dream, but what about the rest of the day? He assumed everything that happened before the field trip was real, but could he be sure? Even about the part where he asked Gwen for a date? He had been wondering if that part was real ever since it happened.

Peter fell asleep after the field trip ended. It would be pretty strange to get a dream from that time confused with something that had (or hadn't) happened so much earlier in the day. But… it wasn't impossible.

He opened his front door and entered. "I'm home," he announced.

Peter's Uncle Ben and Aunt May were sitting in separate chairs watching something on television. They were in their 50's, both with gray hair and blue eyes.

"Hello, Peter," May replied. "Did something happen after the field trip?" She was referring to how long it had been since the field trip was supposed to end.

"Um, I broke my reading glasses today, so I went out to buy some new ones." That was true, but he left out the part where he fell asleep and missed the bus. Peter didn't see the need to say something embarrassing like that.

"A girl named Gwen Stacy called earlier, asking for you," said Ben.

"She did?" Peter remembered that he never told his aunt or uncle about his crush.

"I told her you would call back once you got in." Ben smiled mischievously. "Gwen's that girl you have a crush on, isn't she? Did you finally tell her you like her?"

Peter turned bright red. "What?! How did you—?"

"Your Aunt May told me."

"How did SHE—?"

Ben motioned for Peter to come closer, which Peter did. Ben put a hand to Peter's ear and quietly whispered, "_Your Aunt May knows everything_."

"That's very true," May proudly replied from her chair.

Peter was still bright red. "I'll… be right back…" He walked upstairs towards his room. When he came back to the living room he was holding a piece of paper. He walked to the telephone and began dialing.

May whispered to Ben, "Let's give him some privacy."

"Or at least pretend to," Ben retorted. The two turned off the TV and walked to the adjacent room.

_With an aunt and uncle like them,_ Peter thought, _who needs little siblings?_ He waited for Gwen to pick up.

"Hello?" said Gwen's voice.

"Um… I…" Peter shook his head. "I-It's Peter. My uncle said you called earlier."

"Yeah, I wanted to talk about our plans on Friday."

Peter smiled. He didn't dream it after all. "To be honest, I wasn't even thinking of anything specific. The hardest part was just asking."

He heard Gwen laugh, but Peter didn't feel embarrassed. "You really don't need to be nervous all the time, Peter."

"Yeah, I'm starting to understand that." His words were coming out much easier.

"Mary Jane used to tell me that all the time." Gwen started mimicking Mary Jane's voice. "'Worrying too much just gives you wrinkles! Take one look at my Aunt Anna and you'll know what I'm talking about! Oh, but don't tell Auntie I said that!'"

Peter laughed out loud, and Gwen quickly joined in. Pushing down his giggles, Peter tried to get the topic back on track. "Well, was there anything in particular you wanted to do?"

Gwen thought for a moment. "Well, a movie I was interested in came out recently. We could go see that."

"Okay, I'd like that."

On that day, Peter finally made himself ask out Gwen Stacy, his first crush. Even better, Gwen agreed to go out with him. And for better or worse, Peter finally remembered one of his dreams. But he had no way of knowing the true significance of that last fact.

_I can hear Gwen's voice in my ear, but I'm not nervous anymore. I did it. I think…_

_I think I'm okay the way I am._

* * *

Author's notes:

I started my first fanfiction a while ago, but that one is only in summary format. I consider this my first real fanfiction. I've had this idea in my head for **YEARS** and I'm so glad I've finally written it down. I take a lot of inspiration for this from "DNAngel," as well as "Spider-Man: the Animated Series" and "Ultimate Spider-Man" (I came up with this long before "The Spectacular Spider-Man" premiered, but I might incorporate some of that as well).

This chapter is long because it's the pilot. The next chapters will be shorter (supposedly). I have a lot of ideas for the future of this story, but I'm not exactly sure how to get there. My next update will probably take a long time (I am notorious for dropping off the face of the earth, just look at my other story). Please bear with me until then.

One thing I wanted to do with this story was feature an alternate personality that ACTUALLY WAS an alternate personality. Not a magical spirit or a demon or an alien or the soul of an ancient pharaoh. I want to make it clear that Peter's alternate personality is inherent to him, not to the suit. The suit has no mind of its own. Peter's alternate personality is NOT Venom. Moreover, I do not think I will even be using Venom in this story.

About Spider-man's costume. It's symbiote-like, but it's not an actual symbiote. Like I said before, the suit has no mind of its own. Right now it looks like his regular costume, except the blue is replaced with black and there's no web pattern. Not that the color of the costume affects the plot in any way.

Howard Backyard and Natasha Quarter are original characters. I didn't want to use pre-existing characters because their role is (supposed to be) so minor. However, they will be making some more appearances.

This is my first attempt at a regular fanfiction. It probably stinks, but I did my best. This turned out a lot longer than I thought it would, and yet I feel like I didn't finish everything I would need for a good pilot (pilots are hard). I'll talk more about Peter's alter-ego in the next chapter. I hope you'll read it.

Oh! I almost forgot. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Spider-Man or anything connected with it (or DNAngel for that matter).

—_It wasn't until those people had given him the name "Spider-man" that he realized, he didn't know what name he had before.—_


	2. Debut Performance

Posted: 5/23/08 (Sooner than I expected).

**_A Debut Performance_**.

The person who wasn't Peter woke up in Peter's bedroom.

He cautiously got out bed and tried to gain his bearings. It was nighttime. He didn't recognize anything in the bedroom. He couldn't remember anything that had happened since getting the suit.

Speaking of the suit, he realized he wasn't wearing it anymore. He was instead wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked around the room, and something caught his eye. The closet door was open and there was a laundry basket on the floor inside. On the top of the basket was a black sleeveless shirt. What if…

He picked up the shirt and tried to remember. After the ooze changed into its suit form, it had the same texture as this shirt. If it could change from ooze to costume, then it wouldn't be unusual to change into another shape. That costume kept getting more and more useful. If it could transform, he could wear it under his clothes and no one would ever notice. He might even forget he was wearing it.

He held the black shirt in both hands and concentrated. Slowly, the shirt covered his arms and spread across his body, and it soon became his red and black costume again. He smiled from behind his mask.

Well, now he was in costume again. What to do with himself? He looked around the room. The bed was in one corner. A computer was on a desk, surrounded by notes and other clutter. A bookshelf was filled to the brim with books. Nothing caught his attention.

He decided that he felt like getting some air. He opened his window and crawled out into the night.

* * *

He traveled to the city, which was very close to the house, while easily keeping out of sight. He crouched on the ledge of a building and looked at the streets below. He had a good view, but was preoccupied by other thoughts swarming in his head.

He could remember nothing he did before waking up in the lab that afternoon. Nothing. He couldn't remember what he did afterward either. He couldn't even be sure it had happened that same day. Why had he just spaced out for most of the day?

He had waken up in a room he assumed was his, but he didn't even recognize it. What was wrong with him? The closest thing he had to memories were blurry images that seemed more like dreams.

He concentrated on them. He remembered a house, a room—his room, and two older people. That was it. No wait, one more thing. A voice, a voice he was really happy to hear. That was really it.

He couldn't remember anything that he did before the lab. It was worse than amnesia—it was like he didn't even exist before then. That thought made him shudder.

He heard someone yell briefly. He leaned over and looked down in the alleyway connected to the building he was perched on. He noticed two figures, but it was too dark to see the details. He quietly climbed down the wall.

A man wearing a white bandana over his head had cornered a middle-aged woman. He pointed his knife at her. "It's simple," he said with an annoyed tone. "I'm not interested in YOU, I just need some quick cash. Give me some, and you can go."

The woman held her purse protectively. "I-I don't have any cash, really!"

"That's hard to believe, considering that big purse you have." Bandana brandished his knife. "If you don't hand it over, I can always take it from you."

"Now, that doesn't seem like a very friendly or neighborly thing to do."

Bandana and the woman looked up. They saw Peter, covered by his costume, sticking to the brick wall by his hands and feet.

"The hell?! What are you, some mutant spider? Butt out!"

"I'm not butting out now. And you shouldn't be going around threatening innocent people like that. It's just plain rude."

"Don't go preaching to me, spider-man." Bandana raised his knife and tried to stab the wall-crawler, but Peter jumped down and landed behind him. Bandana turned around and swung his knife repeatedly, but each time he only hit air. "Hold still, damn it!"

Peter crouched and kicked Bandana's feet out from under him. Bandana dropped his knife and fell flat on his back, hitting his head on the ground. Peter saw his chance and took Bandana's namesake off his head, and quickly used it to tie his hands and feet together.

"Hey," Bandana said as he regained his senses. "Let me go, damn it!"

Peter looked at the woman, who was staring in shock. "You might want to call the police before he unties himself." With that, Peter jumped on the wall and began climbing up.

"Wait," the woman called. "Um… Spider-man?"

"Don't call me—" Peter stopped what he was saying. He hesitated, before looking down. "Yeah?"

"Well… it's just… Thank you."

He paused again, taking in what she said. "You're welcome," he said at last. Then he climbed away.

* * *

While crouching on the ledge of a different building, Peter was lost in his thoughts again. It wasn't until those people had given him the name "Spider-man" that he realized, he didn't know what name he had before.

Did he know _anything_ about himself?

This suit allowed him to climb on walls and increased his reflexes, but that was nothing compared to the oddities in his consciousness. Even without the suit, he wasn't normal, and he knew that.

He climbed down the side of the building until he found a window leading into an empty apartment. There were no signs that anyone was inside, but the window was very clean. It reflected his red mask perfectly. Peter took a breath and pulled his mask off. Like a hoodie, the mask stayed attached to the back of his suit. Peter opened his eyes and faced his fears.

He had medium-length brown hair. He had brown eyes. His face looked young, he was sixteen at the oldest.

He didn't. Recognize. The face.

_His_ face.

Peter dejectedly returned to the rooftop, not bothering to put the mask back on. As the wind blew through his hair, it hit him in full force.

_I_…_ don't know who I am._

And yet, it didn't feel like memory loss. It felt like he never had the knowledge to begin with.

It felt like he didn't exist.

He tilted his head up and spent a long time staring at the stars. He eventually lay flat on his back and continued staring. The idea scared him, not existing. Then, he remembered something.

_"Well… it's just… Thank you."_

Somebody thanked him. She couldn't have done that to a person who didn't exist.

That made him smile.

He sat up and laughed. "Ha! There must be something wrong with me. Letting something like a memory gap get me all depressed! As if." He returned to his normal crouching position, letting his arms rest between his legs. "I KNOW I exist. I may not know what I am, but that's nothing to get all teary-eyed over. Besides, I know I'll figure it out eventually."

If anyone could hear him speak, they probably would have called him incredibly simple-minded. And he probably would have laughed and agreed with them.

He heard someone yell briefly from the street below. He looked down and saw a teenage girl being chased by a man, and got an intense feeling of déjà vu.

He smirked. "Until I do get everything figured out, I can't very well support behavior like that. It's not at all chivalrous." He pulled his mask back on and climbed down the building.

_Until I remember my other name, 'Spider-man' is the only name I need._

…_Well, 'Spidey' makes a good nickname too_.

Spidey reached the ground and went to work.

* * *

The next morning, Peter Parker walked down the stairs, yawning and scratching his stomach. He entered the kitchen and put some bread in the toaster, with all the youthful energy of a rock.

"Good morning, Peter," said Aunt May, as she entered the kitchen herself.

"'Morning," he mumbled.

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't know why, but I'm really tired this morning. I must have had a nightmare or something," he said with another yawn.

"I'm sure you'll perk up once you reach school," she said reassuringly.

Peter's toast popped up right before Uncle Ben called from the living room, "Hey, come look at this."

May and Peter (with toast sticking from his mouth) entered the living room and noticed the morning news Ben was watching. A male reporter stood on a street in what appeared to be downtown.

_"Late last night and early this morning, the police and our news station received claims that a person calling himself 'Spider-man' traveled across the city and stopped several crimes such as mugging and attempted theft. We've gathered reports from a total of seven people who claim to have been either rescued by him, or stopped by him. These people describe Spider-man as wearing a mask with a red and black costume, and—strange as it sounds—able to stick to walls. One man, who has been arrested for attempted assault, had this to say;"_

The screen switched to a police car. A man with a white bandana on his head was in the backseat. He was yelling, _"It was me! I was the first mugger Spider-man stopped! And I coined that name! Doesn't that mean I get royalties for that?"_

The screen switched back to the reporter, who chose not to respond to the man. _"Beyond the eyewitness reports, there is no actual proof of Spider-man's existence. Is Spider-man an urban myth, or could he be a real vigilante fighting for the people? Our station will keep you informed as more information becomes available."_

"Was that for real?" May asked. "A man in a costume ran around last night stopping crimes?"

Peter held his half-eaten breakfast in his hand as he spoke. "If seven people all said it, it couldn't be a coincidence."

Ben chuckled to himself. "It's just like something out of the comic books. Well, the crime rate in the city has been pretty high lately. If this 'Spider-man' is real, he just might be the thing to turn that around."

"I don't know," May replied. "I can't really trust a person who takes the law into his own hands like that."

Ben looked over his shoulder. "What about you, Peter?"

Peter swallowed the last of his toast. "I'm with Aunt May. Even if he helped some people, anyone running around in the middle of the night wearing a superhero costume has to be crazy." Peter suddenly sneezed.

Peter recalled a superstition that said you sneeze when somebody insults you. He silently wondered who insulted him right then.

* * *

Natasha Quarter and Howard Backyard sat side by side in the research lab they borrowed. On the other side of the desk, the client's messenger sat with his briefcase resting on an adjacent chair. His black suit matched perfectly with his long black hair.

When the messenger entered the room, he noticed that the window was spotlessly clean, as if it was brand new. There were also two new clocks hanging on the walls, in unusual spots. Duct tape was on the ceiling.

His eyes burned holes in the two people. Quarter cleaned her glasses with the bottom of her shirt. She made sure to avoid eye contact when she put them back on. Backyard looked off to the side as he scratched his hair.

The messenger was tired of their fidgeting. "Well…?"

The two looked at each other. They looked at their laps and finally said, "We don't have it."

"What are you talking about? I spoke with you just four days ago, and it was nearly complete then. You must have finished it by now."

"It's not that we didn't finish it," Backyard said. "We finished the prototype without any problems. But… then it was stolen."

Pause. "Stolen?"

Quarter confirmed, "Stolen."

The messenger said nothing. He let his gaze switch from Backyard to Quarter and back again. Then, he opened his briefcase and took out what looked similar to an answering machine. He placed it on the desk and turned it on.

"Just a moment, you will hear the Kingpin speak."

Seconds passed. A digitally altered voice came from the machine. "This is the Kingpin. Are Mr. Backyard and Ms. Quarter present?"

"Yes," the messenger answered. "It seems that they finished the prototype as scheduled, but it was stolen."

"Stolen? You mean, not confiscated? Was it somebody from outside Oscorp?" The Kingpin was confused, but surprisingly calm. At least, that's how it seemed through his electronic voice.

"Y-yes," Backyard replied. "It was a high school student."

"A student?"

"That's right. Two days ago, a high school held a field trip here in Oscorp. He wandered in this room by mistake, and saw the prototype. We tried to kill him, but he took the suit and used it to escape."

"Why did you try to kill him? Did he look suspicious?"

"Suspicious? Uh… no. It's just… you told us to make sure no one ever saw the prototype and you said you would even assist us in covering a murder. So…"

"I only meant that about the people in Oscorp. You know, people connected to Norman Osborn. He's the only one with the resources—or interest—in finding out who that suit was being made for. Why should I worry about a random civilian? You should have just let him pass through."

Backyard and Quarter were silent for a while. They turned their heads and looked at each other.

Backyard blinked at Quarter.

Quarter blinked at Backyard.

Slowly, they both looked back at the machine. Quarter stood up and slammed her hands on the table.

"WHY didn't you explain that to us in the beginning!! You said, 'NO witnesses, NO exceptions'!! How were we supposed to know that meant, 'no witnesses, except for anyone from outside Oscorp'!! If we had known that, we wouldn't have tried shooting him and none of this would have happened!!"

"You each have common sense and a brain of your own. It's not my fault if you don't think for yourselves."

It was Backyard's turn to shout. "You explicitly told us not to let anyone who saw it live! Did you expect us to subvert the orders of a crime boss!?"

"Please keep your voices down," the messenger said with an annoyed tone. "To prevent eavesdropping, if nothing else."

"They do have a point, however. Perhaps I am partly at fault as well. I should have been more selective in my words. Thus, I'll give you ten percent of the payment for your effort, even though I didn't receive anything."

Quarter sat back in her seat, confused. "You aren't angry?"

"Not that much. The important thing is that Osborn doesn't suspect what's happening. Like I said before, I don't need to fear a civilian, whether he has the suit or not. At the moment the only ones who came out behind are you two."

Quarter and Backyard chose not to respond.

"Getting back to business, I want you to begin work on another prototype bio-suit for me."

"What? You want us to steal even more supplies than we already have?"

"Of course. Otherwise, you'll walk away only with the ten percent. That's what happens when you allow the first suit to get stolen."

"We'll do it," Quarter said. "_If_ you increase the first payment to thirty percent."

The Kingpin considered this for a moment. "Very well. We have a deal. You'll get one hundred thirty percent total upon delivery."

Backyard spoke up. "What should we do about the thief?"

"Nothing. I shall take care of him on my own. After all, if I catch him I get an extra suit for free, do I not?"

Backyard and Quarter narrowed their eyes. They could almost _hear_ the Kingpin's sneer.

* * *

Author's notes: When I started my other, summary-format fanfiction, I had a lot of it already written on my computer. After I used those chapters up, it took me five months to do the next update. After that, I promised never to complain about a slowly updating story again (although, I still check for updates very frequently, but I don't complain when they're not there).

A lot of the time I read all sorts of stories on and I consider a lot of them to be just plain pitiful in their quality. Well, now that I'm writing a story-format fanfiction, I understand that high-quality stories are _not_ easy.

I have many plot points in my head, but they're mostly about stuff in the future. Right now, I'm kind of writing this as I go. Still, I'll try my best.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Spider-Man" or anything connected with it (or anything else that inspires parts of this story).


	3. Unknown Person

Posted: 6/15/08 (Happy Father's Day).

**_Unknown Person_**.

A small moving van was parked in front of an electronics store late Tuesday evening. Two men wearing ski masks walked out the store and towards the van, each holding the end of a large box containing a wide screen TV.

"I'm still kind of nervous about this whole thing," one of the men said. "We both saw the news this morning. What if that Spider-man guy finds us?""

"Are you actually stupid enough to believe something like that?" the other man asked. "Spider-man was OBVIOUSLY made up by the police just to scare people into not breaking the law."

"You think?" They reached the back of their van and gently set the TV on the ground.

"Well, duh. There's no way Spider-man could be real." The second man opened the backdoor of their van. Both men gaped.

Spider-man was standing inside the moving van, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm not real, remember?"

Spidey had been sitting on a nearby rooftop when he heard the van move in front of the electronics store. He could have gone after the would-be thieves as soon as he saw their ski masks, but instead he decided to surprise them by lying in wait within their van. And the looks on their faces had DEFINITELY been worth it.

And so, Spidey restrained the two crooks in short order. He tied them up in the back of their own moving van (The two of them had brought rope for the heist. How convenient can you get?). Afterward, Spidey calmly walked to the nearest payphone and told the police where to pick up the would-be thieves. He hung up before they even had a chance to respond.

Spidey felt absolutely great. He could keep this up all night.

* * *

Peter felt absolutely awful. It was as if he was up all night.

He rolled over from underneath his covers, tired as hell. Wait, was it morning? He poked his head out from under his comforter and saw morning light coming in through his window. He vaguely recalled being woken up earlier by his alarm, but he must have turned it off.

Peter groggily reached out for his alarm clock. He brought the clock to his face and looked. He saw what time it was.

"…_AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!_"

May and Ben were in the kitchen eating breakfast when they heard a scream coming from upstairs. They gave each other a surprised look. "Peter's still here??" May asked. "This late??"

"We both slept in," Ben said, "so I assumed he had left for school before we woke up. For him to be this late is—"

"Hello! Goodbye!" A gust of wind that looked a lot like Peter ran into the kitchen, grabbed some bread, and ran out. The front door slammed shut.

Peter shoved un-toasted bread into his mouth as he ran. He hated eating breakfast like this, but he would have hated it a lot more if he were any later than he already was. Thank goodness he had prepared his backpack the night before. He _would_ have been proud of how quickly he got dressed, if he wasn't so desperate to reach first period before it ended.

It's important to note that Peter got dressed in such a hurry he didn't even notice the black shirt he was still wearing under his clothes.

* * *

A man named Michael Believe was alone in the teachers' lounge of Midtown High School, looking through his briefcase. He was stout but not short, and had thin black and gray hair. Once he was certain he had what he needed for the first class, he closed the briefcase and walked to the door. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Believe stopped walking and took out his phone. The screen said, "_Unknown number_." He put the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

A deep voice replied, "This is the Kingpin."

Believe dropped his briefcase. "How did you find me?"

"Find you? Don't flatter yourself," the undisguised voice said. "Did you think you have the resources to hide from me? But that aside, Mr. Believe, you know too much about me, so I cannot accept your 'resignation.' However, you can still be of use to me so I will give you a chance to undo your mistake."

"I'm not coming back," Believe said bluntly. "I had only one condition, that none of my work be used to murder people. _I_ can't accept broken agreements. I will not come back to you, and…" Pause. "I'm not afraid of you."

The Kingpin was quiet for a few moments. "I will give you some time to think it over," he said at last. "Later today, I will give you one last chance to change your mind. If you still refuse…" The line went dead.

Believe looked at his phone for several seconds. Eventually, he put it in his pocket and lifted his briefcase. He had a class to teach.

Meanwhile, a man in a tan overcoat stood outside the school gate. His cell phone rang, and he answered it quickly. "Yes?"

"I told him I'd give him one last chance. That's your cue."

"Understood." The man hung up and walked through the gate.

* * *

Several hours later, on the top floor of the school, Michael Believe walked towards his office. The entire school day had gone by without noteworthy events. Except in his first class of the day, when that Parker kid didn't show up until class was halfway over.

Believe opened his office door and stepped inside. A man was standing next to the doorway. He wore a simple overcoat and a white mask, which covered his head and exposed only his eyes.

Believe wasn't the least bit surprised to see him. He calmly closed the door and walked past the man. He put his briefcase on his desk and turned back to face his visitor. "I recognize your mask," he said. "You're the Chameleon, the Kingpin's infiltration expert."

"Yes," the man replied in a languid voice.

"Now that I've had time to think about it, you're going to give me one last chance to rejoin the organization. If I refuse, you'll kill me."

The Chameleon reached into his coat and pulled out a gun, which he pointed at Believe. "Yes. Do you really refuse?"

"Yes. Would you really kill me?" Believe asked with a smile.

"You are a liability. Further, since he took advantage of your information, you have a motive to betray him."

"And Kingpin wanted to kill me before I left the school, to reduce the risk of me contacting the police. I understand that, but will you be able to cover up the murder?"

"I won't really need to," the Chameleon replied. "I snuck into this building disguised as you, and I'll leave the same way. This gun has a silencer attached so nobody will hear the shot. Once you're dead I'll just leave the body here in your office. No one will even find your body until tomorrow, by which time I'll be safely in hiding."

Believe seemed to think for a moment. He turned around and opened his briefcase. "When I got the Kingpin's call this morning, my initial idea was to skip school and start running. But I remembered what the Kingpin told me. Now that I'm on a teacher's salary, I don't have the resources to hide from someone as influential as him. Even if I went to the police like Kingpin feared, I have no evidence. But then I realized; you, Chameleon, are living evidence."

Believe turned around again. A gun was now in his hand, pointed at the ground.

"I can shoot you long before you aim your gun at me," the Chameleon said.

"I have no intention of even trying to kill you. But if I'm shot, my finger could jerk in reflex and pull the trigger. And _my_ gun doesn't have a silencer."

Chameleon slightly widened his eyes in realization.

Believe smiled. "I ended my class early, but the other classes are ending just now. All the teachers and students in that hallway will hear the shot. They'll open the door to investigate, and the first thing they'll see is you with a mask on your face and a gun in your hand. They'll call the police. It's doubtful you'll escape before they arrive. And once you're arrested, the authorities will eventually learn of your connection with Kingpin."

The masked man said nothing for several seconds. Eventually, he lowered his gun. "It seems I've been defeated," he said calmly. "You weren't recruited for nothing. I'm guessing you'll only put down that gun after you've confirmed I left the building."

"Wrong." The Chameleon flinched behind his mask. Believe continued. "If you leave now, the Kingpin will just resend you once I'm alone. The only way to defeat you and Kingpin is here in this school." Believe tightened his grip on the gun.

The Chameleon re-aimed his gun. "If you pull that trigger, you're dead." The Chameleon's voice showed an emotion for the first time in that day. Panic.

Believe kept smiling. "I'm already dead. I've been living on borrowed time ever since I quit. I'd much rather die in a way that leaves me vindicated. You see? I _told_ Kingpin I wasn't afraid of him."

BANG! A bullet was shot in the office floor.

Bang. Michael Believe fell down, dead.

The Chameleon thought quickly. _My best chance is to put on a disguise and sneak out before—_

A woman slammed the door open. She took one look inside and screamed. "AAAHHHH!"

_So much for that idea_…

* * *

Peter was the only one still inside his classroom when he heard the gunshot. Flash Thompson 'accidentally' shoved all of Peter's notes off his desk, and Peter stayed behind to try and put his papers back in order. He had just finished zipping up his backpack when he heard a blast come from outside the class. He jerked and stood up on reflex. The noise reminded him of a small explosion. Guns, evidently, are only quiet on TV.

Seconds later, he heard a scream, followed by the sounds of running and more screaming. Leaving his backpack, Peter walked to the door and opened it. He took a step outside and saw a mob of students and teachers running toward the staircase.

He barely had time to process the information when a voice from behind him said, "You're in my way."

The Chameleon hit Peter's head with the handle of his gun. A second later, Peter fell to the ground, unconscious but alive. The Chameleon nonchalantly stepped over the teenager's body and ran towards the stairs.

Less than a minute later, Spidey bolted upright and clutched the back of his head. "Oww!! Man… I could use a monster-sized aspirin right about now." Spidey opened his eyes. He slowly looked around himself. "This isn't my bedroom," he muttered. He was in some kind of hallway, probably a school. There was nobody else in sight.

Spidey noticed an open door several feet behind him. He walked over and looked inside. A dead body was lying face up on the floor. Spidey shivered for a brief moment. He realized he had never seen a dead body before. Well, scratch that. He couldn't really trust his memory.

He heard screaming. Spidey ran over to the staircase and peeked down. On the lower floor, he saw a man in a tan trench coat wearing a white mask. There were several teenagers running away from him. Spidey noticed a gun in the mask-wearer's hand.

"Time to go to work," he whispered. Spidey backed away from the staircase and looked around himself. The coast was still clear. Then he realized the clothes he was wearing. Slightly worried, Spidey reached a hand under his shirt, and relaxed when he felt the familiar material. He concentrated, and within moments he was covered by his costume.

* * *

Students ran toward the next flight of stairs. A young man was about to place his hand on the banister, when a bullet shot into the wood within inches of the man's fingers. Everybody froze and looked at their assailant. "I need to leave in a hurry," the Chameleon said while pointing his gun. "Don't try to slow me down."

The group cautiously moved away from the staircase, giving the masked man plenty of room. "Thank you," he said emotionlessly.

"It's good that you said thank you, but couldn't you have thought of a nicer way to ask?"

The Chameleon turned around and looked for the origin of the voice. He saw a man in a red and black costume squatting upside-down from the ceiling. "What the…?"

"Hey, is that Spider-man?" one of the students asked. "From the news?"

"Quiet," another student hissed, for fear of upsetting the man with the gun.

The Chameleon looked away from the speakers and back to the one sticking to the ceiling. "I see… Spider-man."

"I couldn't help but notice," Spidey started, "there's a dead body upstairs and a gun in your hand. So… did you see the guy who did it?"

"You did," he said wearily. He pointed the gun at Spidey. "That's bad for business."

Bang.

Spidey easily dodged the bullet while staying on the ceiling. "You know, you're the second nut who's shot at me this week. But the first one was prettier."

Chameleon considered saying how he could get prettier if he needed, but decided against it. Wisecracks were never his expertise.

Bang.

Spidey avoided the next shot as well. Then he looked at the group and said, "There's a shootout happening less than ten feet away from you. Shouldn't you be running for your lives, or something?"

After a moment's hesitation, the students quietly moved behind the Chameleon and down the stairs. _The police will be here soon,_ Chameleon thought, _I don't have time for this._ He moved towards Spider-man and continued shooting at the ceiling.

Spider-man jumped down, ducked to avoid another bullet, and kicked the gun out of the Chameleon's hand. It slid across the floor, away from the stairs. Chameleon didn't let it distract him. He threw a series of attacks at Spider-man, alternating between punches and kicks.

Spidey had to actually _work_ to avoid them all. This guy wasn't some amateur like the muggers Spider-man fought on the street. This guy was a pro. Despite that, Spidey was still fast enough to dodge all the blows. He waited for an opportunity, and rammed his knee into the Chameleon's stomach.

The Chameleon was pushed back a few feet. He breathed heavy as his arm held his stomach. Spider-man crouched slightly, waiting for his opponent's next move. The two sized each other up.

"You're fast," Chameleon admitted.

"I know. But feel free to remind me as often as you like."

The Chameleon turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder. The last of the students were walking down the stairs. They made sure to move slowly, because they were afraid of catching the Chameleon's attention.

Wasted effort.

The Chameleon ran back and grabbed the last person, a redheaded girl, by the elbow. He pulled her into an empty classroom. Spidey jumped in after them. Chameleon shoved the girl in front of him just in time for Spider-man to kick him upside the head. The Chameleon fell to the ground a few feet away.

Spidey turned his attention away from the white mask to look at the redhead. "You okay?" he asked.

CRASH! In the moment Spider-man turned away, the Chameleon picked up a chair and struck it against Spider-man's back. After a moment of gentle swaying, Spidey collapsed like a rag doll. He was conscious, but totally dazed.

Chameleon dropped the broken chair and roughly grabbed one of Spider-man's arms. The redhead ran towards them. "Get off of him!" she yelled.

Without even looking at her, the Chameleon kicked her away. He took some kind of four-piece handcuff out of his coat and quickly shackled Spider-man's wrists and ankles behind his back. Spider-man looked over his shoulder and glared up at the Chameleon.

The Chameleon didn't return the glare. He calmly walked out of the room, found his gun, and placed it into his coat. Then he walked down the stairs onto the next floor.

He looked around himself. All of the students and teachers had evacuated by now. Now that there was no one to see him, he safely took a rubber mask out of his pocket. Escaping would be no problem now…

* * *

Meanwhile, Spidey lay flat on his stomach as he struggled against his restraints. He didn't know what they were made of, but even the suit's strength wasn't enough to break them. "This is embarrassing," he said. "The bad guy's getting away, and I'm hog-tied in front of the person I tried to rescue. My coolness factor is plummeting."

The girl—Mary Jane—walked over to Spidey. "Maybe I can pick the lock," she offered. She kneeled down and took a Swiss army knife out of her pocket. The knife itself was removed to make the school happy, but all Mary Jane needed at the moment was the toothpick. She inserted the pick into the keyhole and got to work.

"Can you really unlock it?" Spidey asked, surprised but hopeful.

"I think so." Actually, she and Gwen used to practice in secret on Gwen's dad's handcuffs. Not that Mary Jane had any reason to tell Spider-man that.

She worked on the lock in silence for a few minutes. But Mary Jane knew she didn't work well in silence, so she said, "I'm sorry. This happened to you because that guy used me as bait."

"Don't blame yourself. It's white mask's fault, and I blame him enough for the both of us." Spidey thought for a second. "What was that guy doing here anyway? Do you know?"

"No idea. I just came out of class when I heard a gunshot. Then I saw a mob of students running from him." Mary Jane unlocked the first cuff with surprising ease. She shouldn't have a problem with the rest. "What are you doing here?"

Spidey paused. "I'm… not sure."

"Oh." Mary Jane assumed he was just keeping it secret, so she decided to change the subject. "You know, I never expected to meet Spider-man like this. You're practically famous. Everyone is talking about you and wants to know who you really are."

Spidey paused again. "… Is that so?"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to bother asking you. I understand that you must have a good reason for keeping it secret. Although I have to admit, I am curious."

"Heh. That makes both of us."

Mary Jane stopped moving the pick.

If Spidey weren't tied up, he would have kicked himself. He looked over his shoulder. "_Tell me_ I did not just say that out loud."

Mary Jane thought for a minute. "When you said, you weren't sure how you got here…"

Spidey sighed. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked seriously.

"Yes," she said, as she remembered a few of the secrets she was already keeping.

Spidey sighed again. He had no idea why he was saying this. Then again, he felt the need to tell _someone_. "I have absolutely no idea who I am," he said with a completely somber voice.

Mary Jane started picking the current lock again. "None?"

"None. I can't remember anything at all from before three days ago. And I'm only awake for a few hours a night. My earliest memory is getting this suit. The night before last, I decided to go into the city. There were people breaking the law, so I stopped them. Same thing happened last night. But today, I woke up in a school hallway with no idea of what's going on. I saw a guy with a gun scaring people, and here we are."

"You were wearing that suit when you found yourself here?"

"I was wearing it under my clothes when I 'woke up'." Spidey paused again before continuing. "On my first night out, I took off my mask and looked at my reflection, and I didn't recognize my own face. That scared me pretty bad for a while." He fell silent after that.

"I… had no idea." Mary Jane unlocked the last cuff. Without saying anything, Spidey moved to a squatting position and rubbed his wrists. Mary Jane thought for a moment. "Maybe… no. Nevermind."

"What?"

"I shouldn't say it."

Spidey stared at her. "_I_ just finished saying something really personal…"

Mary Jane looked slightly worried, afraid she insulted him. "Well… I was going to say, maybe you could show your face to me. And it's _NOT_ just because I'm curious," she added before he could respond. "I just thought if I knew what you looked like, I could help you find out who you were."

Spidey thought for a minute. "Look, red—"

"My name's Mary Jane," she calmly interrupted.

Spidey thought for another second. "Can I call you MJ?" She nodded. "Okay, MJ, I have nothing against you. You seem very trustworthy in all of the two minutes I've known you. But the thing is, if I can help it, I don't want people to know more about me than I do. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," she replied. "And I promise not to tell anyone about this. And I hope you're able to figure it all out someday."

"Thank you, MJ. And thanks for getting me out of those handcuffs." Spidey went through the door and jumped onto the ceiling. Mary Jane followed him out the room. "Is there another staircase besides this?" Spidey asked.

"Yeah, it's on the east side of the building."

"Take that instead. He's probably long gone, but I'm doing a quick search for that white mask again."

"Good luck," Mary Jane called as they parted ways.

* * *

A limousine drove through the streets of New York City. In the backseat, a large bald man was speaking with a man in a white mask and trench coat.

"I see," the larger man said. He spoke with the same deep voice that Believe heard on the phone that morning. "So he accepted his death and tried to use it against me. In a strange way, I almost feel proud of him."

The Chameleon looked out the window. "He should have just returned. Killing others would have been a small price to pay."

"At least he died satisfied."

"I'd rather live satisfied."

"Heh. Despite your affinity for masks, you seem to enjoy saying precisely what's on your mind. Moving on, was it really Spider-man who tried to stop you?"

"He never actually said so, but he matched the descriptions."

The Kingpin thought for a few moments. "It's possible that he simply followed the police towards the school and went ahead of them. But it's much more likely that Spider-man is either a teacher or a student in Midtown High School."

"Should I investigate the school, Kingpin?"

"No. The police will be very active for a while. Wait until their case runs out of steam, then we shall search for Spider-man."

* * *

Unfortunately, the Chameleon escaped just before the police arrived. To be safe, officers were still searching inside the school, but with no luck.

Most of the students gathered outside the building. Some were giving testimony to the police, and most were talking among themselves. Gwen and Mary Jane were talking by themselves when Gwen heard a man's voice calling her name. Gwen turned around and saw the police captain walking to her. "Dad?"

Captain Stacy placed his hands on his daughter's shoulders. "There you are," he said with relief in his voice. "I was worried ever since I got the call from your school. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was already leaving when everything started. But…"

"But?"

"I'm really worried about Peter. His last class was on the floor where it happened, and I haven't seen him yet."

"Is Peter a friend of yours?" her father asked.

"Yeah."

"They're more than friends," Mary Jane added. "They're going on a date Friday."

Captain Stacy raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Gwen glared at Mary Jane. "Can't you keep a secret?"

_If you only knew_.

Someone caught Mary Jane's eye. "Hey, there he is," she said. She pointed to Peter, who was wandering in the crowd and rubbing the back of his head.

Gwen walked over to him. "Are you okay? I looked, but I couldn't find you."

"Uh…" Peter woke up on the top floor a few minutes ago. He walked outside and heard about the gunman and Spider-man from another student. _If I tell her the gunman knocked me unconscious, she would just worry._ "I'm fine. I just, kind of got lost in the crowd." After he said it, Peter felt guilty for lying to Gwen. But nothing else happened to him, so he shouldn't try to upset her, right?

A man with light blond hair and a dark jacket walked over to them. "I'm glad you're both safe," he said.

Peter looked at him. "Thank you. But, have we met?"

Mary Jane popped up next to the older man. "This is the Captain of the Police Department," she said with a smile.

"Oh, I see."

"He's also Gwen's father."

"Oh… I see."

"I told him about your date this Friday."

"Oh… I… see…"

* * *

Later that evening, the black haired messenger who spoke with Quarter and Backyard was alone in his home. He was speaking on his phone. "Did you see the news report from this afternoon?"

A digitally altered voice answered. "Yes. It fits with what Backyard and Quarter said. They claim a boy from that school stole the bio-suit. And now Spider-man—whose powers can be explained by the suit—is seen in the same school as the thief. There's no doubt. The thief and my suit are in that school. Which means I can greatly reduce my list of suspects."

"There's something I don't understand," the messenger said. "Why didn't you just ask Backyard and Quarter for a description of the thief?"

"There are a few reasons for that. My first reason is: they're useless."

"They are?"

"Those two are scientific geniuses. After all, they were able to make a working prototype in secret and on their first attempt. But beyond that, in terms of basic competence, they're useless. I don't give them enough credit to have gotten a good look at the thief."

"I see. But it might still be worth it to ask them."

"That brings me to reason number two. Knowing them, they'd put a price on the information. I'm not paying for info which might be wrong. Besides, I'd rather catch the thief without their help, with my own skills."

"I understand," the messenger said. "There's something else I want to mention. After seeing the news report, I did a little digging on the victim, Michael Believe. And it seems that he used to work for the Kingpin… the _real_ Kingpin."

The voice on the phone was silent for a moment. "And you're worried that if I investigate the school while the real Kingpin is involved with it, he might find out I stole his name."

"You've been walking on thin ice ever since you approached Backyard and Quarter with that name," the messenger warned. "If you're not careful, the real Kingpin could come after us both."

The fake Kingpin just laughed. "You worry too much. He won't find out unless we really screw up. Besides, even if worse comes to worse, I know who the Kingpin really is and where to find him, so I'd win."

* * *

Author's notes:

I didn't want Spidey's suit to be literally spider-themed in the beginning, because that's not what Backyard and Quarter were trying to make. They were just making a symbiote suit. They had no reason to give it a spider motif (wall crawling is useful, but not necessarily bug-themed, IMO). That is _part_ of the reason why the suit doesn't make webs. I really wanted to include webbing, but I felt that a man-made symbiote was already stretching the limits of believable science. I didn't want to stretch it further by including unlimited webbing. However, I intend to give the suit webbing at a later point in the story.

On a different note, the last names of my three original characters—Believe, Quarter, and Backyard—are the first names of the first three victims in my favorite novel, "Death Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases." Good book. I strongly recommend it for Death Note fans.

One more thing, I want to thank all the people who reviewed my story. Especially Chaora 01, who has been reviewing my _other_ story since the day I posted it. You always flatter me so much. (Blush)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Spider-Man" or anything connected with it (or anything else that influences this story).


	4. Suspicion

Posted: 6/29/08.

**_Suspicion_**.

Spidey sat in a chair in front of what he assumed was his computer. Sitting alone in the bedroom, he looked somewhat out of place while clad in his red and black costume, minus the mask. But it's not like there was anybody to see him. It was night. The only light in the room came from the computer screen and streetlights from outside the window.

He had no idea why he couldn't remember his life. And he feared even if he learned something about himself, he would just forget it again. But that was no reason to not even try. After all, what would MJ think if he did nothing to solve this problem?

That's why when he woke up that evening, he decided to explore his bedroom and try to find out more about himself. He started with the bookshelf. Spidey was hoping to find some type of personal diary, but no such luck. All he saw were textbooks. It was a diverse selection, but the majority were science books. The techno-babble inside made little sense to him. He was probably storing them for someone else.

His next target was the computer. Spidey sat down in his swivel chair and booted up his terminal. But as soon as he did the words "User login: Password?" appeared on the screen.

Pretty annoying problem for an amnesiac.

Spidey slouched in his chair and glared at the screen, as if daring it to provoke him further. Finally, he turned the computer off and put his mask on.

He was irked. He needed to let off some steam. And if there was one thing Spidey knew about himself, the best way to let off steam was to get some air in the city. Of course, catching some would-be criminals helped too. Spidey opened his window and crawled out.

He'd try again to learn about himself tomorrow night.

* * *

"A lot of people ditched school today," Flash observed, for the sake of conversation.

It was Friday. The school was officially closed down on Thursday, but classes resumed as normal afterward. Except for Mr. Believe's; a substitute wouldn't be available until after the weekend.

Flash was eating lunch in the school cafeteria. On either side of him were his girlfriend Debra, and his best friend Kong. Flash was tall, well built, and had reddish-blonde hair. Debra was much shorter than Flash. She wore glasses and had pale blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Kong was the tallest and the stoutest. He had no hair.

Debra was busy doing her homework while she ate. She kept her eyes on her papers when she answered Flash. "It doesn't surprise me. After what happened on Wednesday, who can blame them? I half-expected you to take advantage of it and skip classes as well, Flash."

"Parents wouldn't let me," Flash explained. "If the school's not closed, and I'm not half-dead with sickness, I have to come."

"Ditto," Kong said. "Did your parents force you here too, Debbie?"

"Don't call me that," Debra requested as she readjusted her glasses. "And I actually enjoy school."

"Flash has the weirdest taste in girlfriends. Not that I'd ever say that to his face."

"You're thinking aloud again," Flash said while narrowing his eyes.

Kong chose to put some food in his mouth instead of replying.

Flash Thompson and Debra Whitman contrasted in several ways. While the former was a typical jock, the latter was a typical nerd. Flash was a natural athlete, captain of the football team, and in danger of failing two classes. Flash was arguably the school's most popular person, despite being a part-time bully. Debra was an intellectual, who had no interest in popularity or sports. Many people considered her the smartest person in the school. In the past, Flash teased her for being a 'nerdy bookworm.'

How the two of them got together is anyone's guess. Not even Flash and Debra completely remember why they started dating.

Debra looked up from her notes and put the end of her pencil on her lips, the way she did when she was deep in thought.

Flash leaned over to her. "Something on your mind?"

"I can't stop wondering about everything that happened yesterday. Why was Mr. Believe the one killed? It couldn't have been random. Not if the shooter snuck into his office."

Kong spoke up, excited. "Here's my theory. That guy in the white mask didn't seem like some random thug. He seemed like a _professional_ criminal, like a crime boss or something. Maybe Believe was actually a secret agent posing as a teacher while trying to stop him. That's why he had a gun too."

"Maybe Believe was the crime boss and the white mask was the secret agent," Flash said, half-jokingly.

"Good guys don't wear masks."

Flash stared at his bald friend in confusion. "Good guys can have guns, but not masks? Besides, what about Spider-man? Don't tell me he isn't a good guy."

Good point. Kong had nothing to respond to that with. He took another bite out of his food.

"Spider-man is also something I'm curious about," Debra muttered. "The entire school has been talking about him since he was spotted fighting that white mask. There are rumors flying everywhere about why he was here."

"I got a theory about that too," Kong said. "I think Spider-man was tracking that guy for days, and finally found him here in the school."

"How would Spider-man know that guy was here if he was only here to kill Mr. Believe?" Flash asked.

"Maybe the white mask was hiding in the school for a long time. He might even be another teacher."

"The police said that everyone on the staff had an alibi at the time Mr. Believe was shot," Debra reminded him. She smiled. "Here's _my_ theory for Spider-man's appearance; I think he's a student at this school."

"Why a student?"

"Because I just said the teachers had an alibi right before he appeared."

"Come to think of it," Kong mumbled, "wasn't Spider-man first sighted the night after we had that field trip at Oscorp? Maybe he got his powers from a classified experiment there or something."

"That's a bit of an assumption," Debra replied. "But the timing does suggest a connection."

Flash held up a hand. "Wait. Even _if_ Spider-man is a student here in the school, so what?"

The trio looked at each other. Kong grinned form ear to ear. "We can find out who Spider-man is!"

Debra grinned as well. "For the first time since I've known him, I agree with Kong."

"Don't you wanna know, Flash?" Kong asked. "He's been practically your hero since you heard about him Tuesday."

"I wouldn't say _hero_…" He paused. He smiled. "But it would be pretty cool being the first people to learn his secret identity."

"And it might lead to more information about Mr. Believe and the man in the white mask," Debra said.

"That settles it," Kong declared. He threw his fist into the air. "We're going to find out who Spider-man is!"

Flash pulled Kong's fist down. "Quiet! Spider-man could be here today, remember?" Fortunately, the cafeteria was as noisy as it always was. Nobody seemed to notice Kong's announcement. "If we're really going to do this, we need to take it seriously. I think we should make a list of suspects."

Debra took a fresh page out of her notebook and touched it with her pencil. Then she paused. "Where should we start? Kong and I were there when he appeared, but his costume hid any defining features. We couldn't even tell how tall he was. He could be anyone."

Kong, eager to keep the ball rolling, said, "Then we'll just focus on other things. Spider-man is always jumping off rooftops and fighting muggers, right? So we'll look for someone really athletic."

Flash nodded. "I already know everyone on the football team, but we'll need to look up the members of the other clubs. Maybe a basketball play—" Flash stopped himself when he noticed Debra's serious expression. The end of her pencil was on her lips again. "What is it?" He followed her gaze.

He saw Peter Parker sleeping facedown in his food.

Flash and Kong burst out laughing. "Remember that time when we shoved his face into his tray?" Kong asked between chuckles. "He saved us the trouble this time." They continued laughing.

It wasn't until Flash noticed that Debra still had her serious expression that he stopped. "Debra, what is it?"

"Peter has been falling asleep in his classes lately as well," she stated. "He never used to do that before this Monday."

"So?"

"Maybe he's staying up late at night."

"So?"

"Spider-man is usually seen late at night."

"You think Parker is trying to find Spider-man too?"

"No. I think Peter should be our first suspect."

Flash and Kong took a moment to absorb Debra's words. They looked at each other. Then they started laughing even louder than before.

"Stop that! I'm serious!"

Flash forced down his giggles. "You think that Parker—_Puny_ Peter Parker—could be Spider-man?"

"Well, maybe."

"Debra, that's impossible. Spider-man beats up like five muggers a night. I could knock down Puny Parker just by breathing on him."

"Have you knocked him down since Monday?"

No response. Flash hated admitting when Debra had a point, which was unfortunately very often.

"I don't know how Spider-man got his abilities," Debra said, "but what makes Peter less likely to get them than someone else?"

Flash and Kong looked at the boy who had just regained consciousness and was wiping food off his face. He looked pathetic.

"You really think that's Spider-man?"

"I think he's our only suspect at the moment. Unless you've noticed anyone else falling asleep in class."

Flash and Kong sighed in unison. It was a dejected sigh. "Fine. Put him down as suspect number one."

A triumphant Debra wrote Peter Parker's name on the list of suspects.

"So much for your hero," Kong thought aloud.

Flash shoved Kong's face into his tray.

* * *

Late Friday afternoon, Peter was leaning against the wall outside of a movie theater, sleeping again. Gwen walked up to him and gently shook his shoulder. Peter's eyes fluttered open.

Gwen smirked. "I'm not _that_ late."

Peter widened his eyes. He was wide awake now. "Gwen! Uh- I'm sorry! You're not late. I mean…" He calmed down and shrugged sheepishly, not sure what else to say. Gwen just giggled and shook her head.

The two walked into the building together. They quietly got their tickets and made their way into the auditorium. The movie wouldn't start for several minutes, and yet the place was quickly filling up with people. Despite that, Peter and Gwen easily found two seats next to each other.

"You fell asleep in class today, too," Gwen said after they sat down. "Are you getting enough sleep at night?"

"I think so. I mean, I'm going to sleep the same time I always do." He rubbed the back of his head. "I have been having some nightmares lately. That might have something to do with it."

"Nightmares? Is it about what happened on Wednesday?"

Peter shook his head. "They're not about that. Actually, I don't really remember them after waking up. They're really vague." The lights dimmed as the trailers started. Peter ignored them. "Are you okay after that thing that on Wednesday?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was on the first floor when it happened. You were the one I was worried about. Did you see the man in the mask?"

"Which one? The shooter or Spider-man?"

"Either."

Peter diverted his eyes. "N-Not exactly."

"Not exactly?"

"I mean no. I wasn't even there. No! I _was_ there. I meant I didn't see them. I was…" He considered his next words.

"Peter, is there something you're not telling me?"

"Not telling you?" he repeated. He waved his hands while giving a weak smile. "N-No, no. I told you everything. I-I mean, what could possibly make you think there was something—"

Gwen crossed her arms and gave Peter 'The Look.' He instantly stopped smiling. Poor soul had never experienced Gwen's 'Look' before.

_I totally suck at this lying thing_, Peter thought. He sighed and rubbed his head, in the same place the bump used to be. "The truth is, I came out of the classroom after I heard the shot. And then someone hit my head and knocked me out. I think it might have been the shooter."

"WHAT?" Gwen yelled. Everyone else in the theater turned their heads and looked at the couple. Peter nervously motioned for Gwen to keep quiet. Gwen ignored him and felt the back of his head. "You were attacked by that hitman?! Why didn't you say something?"

Peter stuttered. "W-well, when I woke up everything was over. I-I didn't want to get anyone worried."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "It didn't work, Peter. Don't do stuff like this to me."

"Stuff like what?"

"Don't try to _protect_ me from the truth. I really don't like that."

Peter hung his head. His first date with the girl he liked and all he did was make her mad. "I'm sorry. I just felt saying it would do more harm than good."

Gwen lifted Peter's chin and looked into his eyes. "Don't keep secrets from me, okay?"

He blinked and nodded softly. "Okay."

Gwen smiled and fell back into her seat. She placed her hand on top of Peter's. Apparently, she wasn't as mad as Peter thought.

Peter blushed. "Uh… the movie's starting," he observed as the trailers ended. He stared straight ahead at the movie screen.

Gwen heard a brief giggle coming from behind her. A _familiar_ brief giggle. She turned her head to look behind her. She gaped.

Mary Jane was sitting a few rows behind Gwen. As soon as Gwen looked at her, Mary Jane smiled and started waving, but the man at her right quickly grabbed her wrist and forced it down. The man was wearing a hat and trying to hide his face behind the book he was reading, but Gwen recognized him. It was Gwen's father. And Gwen's mother was sitting next to him, hiding her own face behind a book.

Sitting on Mary Jane's left were two people in their early fifties. They slowly pulled their hats over their faces. Gwen assumed they were Peter's aunt and uncle. They were trying to look inconspicuous. They failed.

And as if that wasn't enough, sitting behind all of them were Debra, Flash, and Kong. Gwen had no idea why they were interested in their date, but there they were. They weren't even bothering to hide.

Those eight people did not pay attention to the trailers.

Gwen looked forward again, slightly dazed. Her expression was a mix of amazement and 'why me.'

"Are you okay?" Peter asked her. He slowly started to turn his head.

"Don't turn around," Gwen warned.

Peter obediently looked back at the movie screen. He didn't mind being protected from the truth.

* * *

Author's notes: I know it's cliché (which I usually hate), but it just wouldn't be the main characters' first date if EVERYONE weren't spying on them.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Spider-Man" or anything connected with it (or anything else that influences this fanfiction).


	5. First Revelation

Posted: 11/16/08.

Author's notes: Sorry about the unbearably long update. I guess it just wouldn't be one of my stories without a five-month hiatus (embarrassed laugh). I don't even like how I did this chapter, but I felt like I just _**had**_ to get a new chapter posted and end that hiatus, even if the chapter was BS.

The good news is, in addition to this chapter I also rewrote the last four chapters and slightly changed a few things I didn't like. It was nothing major, but give them another read if you have time.

* * *

_**First Revelation**_.

Spidey smiled as he looked at his red and black costume through the small mirror in his hand. There was now a black spider symbol in the center of his chest. Previously, he could only disguise his costume as a black shirt. But after much practice Spidey was now able to change the design, however slightly. It was a nice addition to the once bland outfit. Maybe after some more practice he could add a web pattern or something…

Spidey put the mirror back on his desk and walked around the room. His new accomplishment couldn't make him forget that he still didn't know who he was. And there wasn't anything in his room that would tell him. His best bet was to simply leave the room and explore the house. But…

He looked at his closed door. His hand hovered over the doorknob.

He didn't know what would be outside. Although, that was kind of the point. The only way to learn about himself was to… well… _learn_. But he just didn't want to look through his own house if he was going to treat it like a stranger's. Besides, what if he met someone? "Hi. You're probably my relative, but I have no idea who you are because I can't remember anything. Also, I'm only conscious for a few hours a night. Why is that?"

Ugh.

Spidey crawled out his window and started his patrol. He decided not to explore his house tonight. He figured he could always change his mind tomorrow.

But a whole week passed, with that same train of thought every night.

* * *

Peter and Gwen were eating together in the school cafeteria, like they had been doing every day since their date. Gwen smiled and said, "I noticed that you're not sleeping in class anymore. Did your nightmares stop?"

Peter diverted his eyes. "Um…"

Gwen dropped her smile. "They didn't?"

"…No. The truth is, I've been taking a nap each afternoon," he admitted. "But I don't have nightmares at those times," he added optimistically.

The blond sighed. "Peter, you've been having a recurring nightmare every night for, what, two weeks? That's not something you should just _ignore_."

"…It's not—" Peter was interrupted as a certain redhead sat down at their table.

"Hi, guys," Mary Jane said. It took her only one moment to notice the mood. "You seem upset. You're not having a fight, are you?" She smiled and shrugged. "If you are, tell me what it's about. I want to take sides."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "We are not having a fight," she corrected. "I'm just a little worried about Peter because he's still not getting enough sleep at night."

"My nightmares don't actually keep me up," Peter said. "I mean, I'm asleep the whole time. But, ever since they started, I've been waking up exhausted. That's all."

"What exactly happens in these nightmares?" Mary Jane asked.

Peter was quiet. "Um…"

"C'mon," she urged. "Keeping stuff inside is bad for your health. You'll feel better if you just get it off your chest."

"It's not that I mind talking about it," he responded. "I just… can't remember much. What I do remember aren't really nightmares. Nothing scary really happens." He tried to think back. "Usually, it's nighttime… I'm in the city… and I think I'm up somewhere high." He paused. "And that's all I can really remember."

"And this is a recurring dream?" Gwen asked. "It's just that, each night?"

Peter thought again for a moment. "One dream was different," he recalled. "It was in the school… and I _think_ I was handcuffed, but I'm not sure."

Mary Jane got a subtle sensation of déjà vu. _Handcuffs in school…_

"Wait a minute…" Peter said. "I just remembered. That was the dream I had when I was knocked unconscious during the shooting last week."

Gwen and Mary Jane both blinked in surprise, but for very different reasons.

"You had a dream while you were knocked out?" Gwen asked.

"Is that unusual?"

She paused. "Actually, I've never been knocked out, so I guess I wouldn't know."

Mary Jane didn't respond. She was too busy thinking about what she just heard. Her déjà vu evolved into a very unexpected suspicion.

* * *

As soon as Mary Jane got home after school, the first thing she did was boot up her computer and began searching online. Mary Jane felt like she was jumping pretty far to get to this conclusion, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking about it.

_Peter was unconscious—or at least he thought he was—during the shooting. Spider-man was handcuffed during the shooting and Peter vaguely remembers it. Meanwhile, Spider-man doesn't know who he really is and thinks he's sleeping when Peter is awake. Gwen and Peter don't know any of that, so they assume Peter's dreams are just dreams. But…_

After several minutes of cross referencing terms like 'loss of memory,' 'change in personality,' 'sleepwalking,' 'fatigue,' 'vague dreams,' and anything else she could think of that was even remotely connected to Peter's or Spidey's case, information on one topic continued to pop up. Dissociative Identity Disorder.

…_But it's not impossible._

* * *

Late that night, Spidey was out in the city performing cartwheels on the roof of a low building. There was little to do that night, seeing that Spidey couldn't find any would-be criminals on the street. "I scared them all off, no doubt." Suddenly, he noticed a flash of red on another rooftop.

He stood up straight to get a better look. Then he smiled from behind his mask. After getting a running start, he easily jumped from building to building until he reached the other person. "Yo!"

Mary Jane, dressed in street clothes and a jacket, turned around with a start. She quickly calmed down when she saw who it was. "Long time no see, MJ," Spidey said. "What are you doing up here so late?"

"I was looking for you," she explained. "Well, not actually _looking_. You move so fast, I didn't think I could find you. But I hoped you would notice me if I stayed somewhere high."

"You came all this way just to see lil' old me? I'm touched." He crouched down with his arms between his legs. Mary Jane figured that's his version of sitting normally. "Seriously, what's the occasion?"

_No point in mincing words_, she thought. "I think I know who you are."

Spidey was silent for several seconds. "You don't say," he responded calmly. Mary Jane wondered what expression he wore under that mask.

Mary Jane sat down cross-legged to be on eye level with him. "I know you said that you didn't want someone to know more about you than you did, but my friends said something earlier today and it got me thinking. And one thought led to another, and I really think I got it figured out," she said excitedly.

"And?"

"There's this guy I go to school with, Peter Parker. He's really tired during the day, and he has dreams about what _you do_ at night. He even remembered that time the white-mask guy handcuffed you in the school. By the way, did you ever catch him?"

"No. Keep going," he urged, somewhat irritably.

"Well, I think _you're_ Peter, but you're just unable to remember it most of the time. And he doesn't remember being you. I did some searching on the internet, and I learned about something called Dissociative Identity Disorder. It's basically means a split personality. If we use that, a lot of things make sense."

Spidey said nothing for a while. He got up on his feet and began walking. "A split personality, huh? I _guess_ it could make sense. But if you ask me, it's a pretty big assumption. And you can't really confirm it unless you know what I look like."

_Why the hell am I making excuses?_ Spidey asked himself. _I've been avoiding a chance to get the answers for over a week. Now the (possible) answers are practically being handed to me on a platter and I'm still avoiding them. Am I really this nervous about it?_

Truth be told, Spidey was just plain nervous. Mary Jane, however, wasn't giving up. She stood up and looked at Spidey's back. "Last time we met, you told me you saw your reflection. Are you Caucasian? Do you have brown hair and brown eyes? Are you about five foot six? Are you a little skinny? Do you squint when trying to read things up close?"

Spidey stopped walking.

_Screw nervousness_. He took off his mask and turned around.

Mary Jane smiled. _I SO knew it_, she cheered silently.

Spidey spoke through Peter's mouth. "Tell me _everything_ you know about Peter Parker."

* * *

More author's notes: Sorry about that cliffhanger. I normally make it a policy to avoid cliffhangers since I update so slowly. But if I made this chapter longer, that would have made the update even slower, and I just couldn't stand that anymore.

That scene on the rooftop was actually planned out ever since the beginning of the story, but it was supposed to happen much, much later. This chapter is the catalyst of a very important arc in this story, which was originally going to be a sort of halfway point. But the truth is, I didn't want to stall anymore. I believe this story will be a lot more fun for me once I get this part finished.

On the other hand, I'm afraid I rushed things too quickly. The execution of this chapter feels so forced and contrived to me (not to mention short). If you have an opinion, please tell me through a review.

The next chapter will also be short, and I already know what to do, so hopefully that means it'll be up soon.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Spider-Man or anything connected with it. Surprise.


	6. Swear to Me

Posted: 3/15/09.

* * *

_**Swear to Me**_.

It was late at night. Real late. So late it was early. Neither of them cared.

Mary Jane and Spidey talked on that rooftop for much longer than either of them expected to. Mary Jane didn't think she knew much about Peter. They only knew each other through Gwen and most of Mary's information came from her, not him. She was trying to relay this secondhand data to a person who both _was_ Peter, and was not him. Later, Mary Jane would reflect on how surreal the situation was, but at the moment she took it all in stride.

Even though it shouldn't have been much information, it seemed like a lot. The two teenagers talked and laughed and discovered new things about their mutual 'acquaintance.'

And then it was over. And Spidey felt strangely unfulfilled.

Still in costume, but sans mask, the vigilante lay down on his back and stared at the sky, collecting his thoughts. Everything was quiet for a while.

Mary Jane worriedly looked down at the boy from her seated position. "What are you thinking?"

Spidey didn't answer at first. When he did answer, he said, "I'm trying to remember what I wanted."

"What you wanted?"

He suddenly sat up and stared out to the horizon. "I asked you to tell me about Peter, but now I'm wondering what to do with this information." He turned to her and smiled. "Not that I'm ungrateful you told me."

"Does knowing it upset you?"

Spidey thought about this for a moment. "Well... it does kind of suck that my other self is the school geek," he said in a half-joking manner.

Mary Jane smirked at his answer. She knew Spidey for even less time than she knew Peter, yet hearing his reply could make her think, '_That's just like him_.' It was funny. They shared the same face, but Mary Jane had no trouble thinking that they were different people. They were more than two separate personae; they were two separate _consciousnesses_.

"I meant the split personality thing in general," she said. "Does it bother you to think that you're a part of somebody else?"

With shocking simplicity he replied, "No. Should it?"

Mary Jane didn't know how to respond.

"Actually, I'm starting to think that I suspected this before. Subconsciously, at least. Multiple personalities would have explained a lot of things about me, but I guess I was too nervous to confirm it. That might be why I was so hesitant to look for answers.

"You know, I didn't tell you this when we first met, but ever since I," he searched for the right word, "_appeared_, I've had really fuzzy dreams. Now I think they're about what Peter's doing during the day. It's just like how he's dreaming of what I do."

"So you're okay with everything?"

Spidey thought about it. "Yeah. I think I'm okay the way I am."

Mary Jane smiled. "Are you gonna keep being a vigilante?"

"Of course! I love it too much to quit!"

"But you know, not everyone in the city is pro-Spider-man," she informed him. "Some are calling you a loose cannon or a danger. You should hear all the stuff the Daily Bugle says about you."

The self-proclaimed superhero waved a hand dismissively. "They're just jealous. You and I know how rock-hard awesome I am."

Mary Jane laughed. They were more than just two separate consciousnesses. Peter and Spidey were two separate ends of the spectrum!

"Oh, yeah," Spidey interrupted her laughter. His tone was suddenly somber. "MJ, I actually have a request for you."

The redhead calmly looked at him. "What is it?"

"I need you to promise not to tell Peter about me."

"Hell no!"

Her rejection was so blunt it made Spidey fall over. He quickly sat back up. "What do you mean 'hell no'?! You kept my secret before!"

"That was totally different," she replied. "Peter deserves to know that he has a split personality. And don't think you can 'protect' him from the truth. Gwen taught me that doesn't work."

"I'm not trying to 'protect' him. I'm just..." He paused. "I guess I want to get used to the idea myself first."

_I can't tell you my real reason. I like being a hero. But if Peter knew the risks I put his body through, he might try to stop me_.

Mary Jane, trying to be sincere, said, "Being a superhero is dangerous. Isn't it fair to at least _warn_ Peter about the risks you take?"

Spidey jerked his head in shock. It was as if she responded directly to his thoughts.

"I'm personally fine with being a split. I myself am surprised by how much in stride I'm taking it. But I have no idea how Peter would react. I guess I'm nervous."

Mary Jane smiled. "Peter's a nervous guy too. Maybe you're more alike with each other than I thought."

Spidey smiled. Then he suddenly hopped onto his hands and knees and lowered his head toward the girl. "Please, MJ!" he cried. "Promise you won't tell him--or anyone, really. It doesn't have to be forever. I just... I want some time to myself before I have to spill everything to him. Pretty please!"

She thought about it. Then she nodded her head. "Alright. I won't tell him 'til you're ready."

He quickly got up and pointed a finger at her. "You have to swear it. I want you to take this seriously."

The redhead sighed and rolled her eyes. Then she composed herself. "I swear, I will not tell Peter about you until you're ready. I also will keep Spider-man's secret identity a secret from everyone else." She pointed at him. "But he has to know _eventually_! I won't let you put it off forever."

Spidey grabbed MJ's hand and shook it. "Deal!" He stood up and stretched. "Wow. We've been here for a while," he realized.

Mary Jane stood up too. "Yeah. I should get home now." In the distance, she saw a pale light that heralded the start of a sunrise.

"You okay getting home by yourself?"

"Sure. It's not far from here."

Spidey put his mask back on. "I'm gonna do a brief skim through the area, then I'll head home too. Peter has a busy day at school today, right?"

Mary Jane smirked. "Yeah, and you must hate the fact that you have to 'sleep' through it," she said with a small laugh.

She couldn't see Spidey's smirk, but knew it was there. "Oh, it's absolutely tragic," he replied.

They waved, and went their separate ways. Mary Jane got home faster than she hoped. Dawn hadn't even broken yet. She snuck into her room, removed her jacket and her street clothes, and got into bed to get whatever sleep she could before school. Just as she started drifting off, she realized something.

"I never asked him... I meant to ask him how he got his powers." She shrugged it off, too tired to dwell on it. "Oh well, I'll just ask him next time. I know I'll see him again."

* * *

Dim Smith, the liaison of the Fake Kingpin, opened the door to a small lab in Oscorp.

"Knock first!" Backyard and Quarter sternly said in unison.

Annoyed, Smith knocked on the open doorframe.

"We meant you're supposed to knock first. There's no point in knocking _now_," Backyard said.

Smith replied, "Then there's no point in complaining now." He closed the door and walked into the center of the room. "Any progress?"

Howard Backyard looked up from his papers. "We haven't been able to steal any new material because security's gone up. We think Osborn might have noticed that the previous samples are missing."

"Can't be helped." Smith looked over to Natasha Quarter, who was examining something under a microscope at another table. "And you?"

She didn't look up her microscope. "This is a piece of the bio-suit that was left behind when the suit was stolen. We... might have a problem."

"Problem?"

Quarter turned around and looked hard at the dark-haired man. "The bio-suit was an experiment to create a non-permanent biograft; something that can be attached or removed from the body as needed. But as we told you in the beginning, we never expected the result to be perfect."

Backyard continued her explanation. "Judging from our sample, the whole suit _may_ be flawed in its detachable aspect. If it stays on too long, it could permanently fuse with the body. And we have no way of knowing how often Spider-man removes it."

Smith nodded. "So if Kingpin wants the first suit for himself, he needs to get it away from Spider-man as soon as possible."

* * *

"Is that so?" Jason Philip Macendale spoke on the phone with Dim Smith, allowing his specialized cell phone to alter his voice. He was driving a small truck as he spoke, making yet another weapons delivery for the real Kingpin.

"They haven't confirmed it," Smith replied, "but it is possible that the suit will fuse with his body if too much time passes. We may already be too late."

Macendale thought to himself for a moment. "I want to use one of those bio-suits to eliminate our boss, the Kingpin. But if Oscorp has its guard up now, getting the suit from Spider-man is my only other option. I guess we need to start acting fast."

"Things might get hectic from this point."

The Fake Kingpin laughed. "You should be used to hectic by now... Chameleon."

The Chameleon, with the second alias of Dim Smith, ignored the comment and said "Perhaps I can get some data on Spider-man from the real Kingpin. He might have learned something through the vigilante sightings."

"You do that, but be careful. We wouldn't want him to know that you were double-crossing him." Macendale hung up.

The Chameleon closed his cell phone and took off his disguise, revealing the white mask underneath. "What an idiot," he hissed.

* * *

"You can't blame Mr. Macendale for not figuring things out," said the real Kingpin as he took the cigar out of his mouth. "After all, you're an excellent actor."

Wilson Fisk casually sat behind the desk in his office. The Chameleon diligently stood before him. "It has nothing to do with my deceptive skills," the masked man said, "he's just so overconfident it's pathetic. He never even tested my loyalty. He just hired me because he thought I hated you."

"As I understand it, you _do_ hate me," the dark-skinned crime boss replied. "And yet, after Macendale brought you in on his big scheme to overthrow me, you told me everything and _volunteered_ to be a double agent against him. Why would a man who hated me do that?"

"Obviously to stay in your good graces," Chameleon replied, "...just in case his plan fails."

The Kingpin laughed, briefly. "So you _are_ burning the candle at both ends."

"How so?" he asked. "I'm only pretending to help _him_. If I really was on his side, he wouldn't have let me tell you his plans."

Kingpin took a deep breath from his cigar before speaking again. "Macendale needs the suit to get past my security and still have the power to finish me. Without it, he can waste his off hours playing his silly games and never grow the spine to attack me. On another note, I'm interested in getting this suit for my own purposes. I think we should start the Spider-man hunt ourselves."

"This is just speculation, but I suspect that Backyard and Quarter also want to capture Spider-man. That way they can still sell their first prototype to Macendale."

"So we're all after the same thing. This will be a race against time. And Spider-man's power is the prize."

* * *

Mary Jane was worried that it would be difficult keeping her promise when around Peter. But she didn't have to worry about that today because she didn't see him.

But Peter saw her. She was seated a few rows behind his desk, sleeping in class.

Peter leaned over and whispered to Gwen. "Is she okay? She never did this before."

Gwen shrugged. "Maybe your sleepiness is contagious?" she said jokingly.

* * *

Author's notes: Writing this chapter was a lot harder than I expected it to be, but I think the final version is all right.


	7. Acting Innocent

Posted: 6/1/09.

_**Acting Innocent**_.

Debra, Flash and Kong sat together at a round table in the school library. It was a makeshift study hall, as the usual classroom was closed that day. But the three of them weren't using the time to study schoolwork. The table was covered in newspaper clippings, Internet printouts, and handwritten notes, all about Spider-Man.

Debra sighed. "I spoke with our eighth suspect. He also had an alibi for the time of the shooting. Two of his friends confirmed it."

Flash crossed out another name on their list. Seven of the eight were eliminated. It was sad how routine dead ends had become. "Let's focus on Spider-Man himself," said the football player. "You both saw him during the shooting. Couldn't you tell anything at all about him?"

"Well, we know it's not a girl pretending to be a guy," Kong said. "I would have noticed if a girl was in that skintight outfit. But besides that, he never stood up straight or stopped moving, so..."

Debra opened that day's edition of the _Daily Bugle_. "The Bugle still can't get a good photograph. There are many eyewitness sightings, but none much better than our own. From the newspapers, Internet, and our own observations, my best estimation is that his height is between five-foot four and five-foot ten."

"That still leaves a _lot_ of people to go through," Kong moaned. Silence filled their table.

"I feel totally pathetic," Flash mumbled, slouched against the back of his chair. "It's been like two weeks since we started this investigation and we haven't made any real progress. All we do is think of new suspects and then write them off the list five minutes later."

"Our original suspect, Peter Parker, is notably absent among the suspects we can eliminate," Debra reminded him.

"You're _still_ going on about that?"

"I think Debbie's got the right idea," said Kong, ignoring Debra's response of "Don't call me Debbie." "At first I couldn't believe it either, but then we all heard what Pete said on his date with what's-her-name. Everyone else we thought of had a good story for where they were at the shooting, but all Pete has is 'I was unconscious.' Lamest alibi ever."

"That's not proof," Flash countered. "He really _might_ have been knocked out by the shooter. Back in middle school, I could get Puny Parker to pass out just by scaring him."

Debra spoke up. "Still, we can't confirm Peter's alibi. His new sleeping habits still haven't been explained. And he _is_ our only suspect right now."

Flash refused to believe it. It's not that he disliked Peter--the only reason Flash bullied him was because it was _easy_. To think that the helpless Peter Parker was secretly an infamous superhero, it almost felt like his way of getting back at Flash. The idea did not settle well.

But Debra and Kong were being insistent. And they _were_ out of extra suspects again.

"Fine, we'll focus on Parker," Flash said. "I want real evidence on whether or not he's Spider-Man."

"How do we get it?" Kong asked. "Do we sneak into his room at night and see if he's not there?"

"Even if he wasn't there, that could be explained a number of ways," Debra said. "We need something more direct." She put the end of her pencil on her lips and thought in silence for a few minutes. Her eyes lit up. "I have an idea."

"Yeah?" Flash and Kong were all ears.

"We should invite Peter to help us look for Spider-Man."

Silence again.

"Are you trying to be funny?"

"I'm perfectly serious," she argued. "He'll decline whether he's Spider-Man or not. You two used to bully him so he won't spend more time with you than he has to. The invitation is merely a way of letting Peter know what we're doing. The real Spider-Man would be nervous after hearing that we're looking for him."

Now Flash's eyes lit up. "I get it. We tell him just to see his reaction. When Parker's nervous, he can't hide it to save his life--not without a mask, anyway."

"But if he's Spider-Man and knows we're looking for him, won't it be harder keep watching him?" Kong asked.

"Parker always has his guard up around you and me anyway. But if he starts avoiding Debra too, that'll just make him look suspicious."

"That's true."

"Even if he tries to act innocent, he'll inevitably drop some clues by accident," Debra added.

"Sounds like we have a plan of action," Flash said. "Are we all in favor?"

* * *

"Excuse us. May we sit down here? There's something I'd like to talk about."

Debra, Flash and Kong were carrying their lunch trays and looking expectantly at Peter from across the cafeteria table. The question surprised the brunette. Peter wasn't on bad terms with Debra, but they never really socialized before. Actually, Peter never socialized with anyone except Gwen and Mary Jane, who were currently sitting with him already.

But he had no reason to object, and neither did the two girls. Debra sat directly across from Peter, with Flash on her right and Kong on his right.

Debra wasted no time. "See, Peter. We've been doing a special project for some time--not a school related one, it's just personal interest. But you could say we've run into a snag. Then this morning I remembered how intelligent you are, and I was hoping you could join our investigation."

Peter reached for his water bottle. "Investigating what?"

"Well..." Debra deliberately waited until Peter was drinking. "We're trying to learn Spider-Man's true identity."

To Debra's disappointment, Peter didn't spit out his drink in shock. But Mary Jane did.

Water sprayed onto Kong's shirt and the redhead began coughing violently. It was so bad that Gwen had to pat hard on her back before Mary Jane was able to compose herself. Finally, she weakly said "...Thanks, I'm okay." She looked up and noticed five sets of eyes were fixed on her.

Mary Jane just smiled and shrugged. "...Wrong pipe."

Kong began wiping his shirt with a napkin. Debra started talking again. "Well... as I said, we want you to help us reveal the true identity of Spider-Man." She watched Peter again.

But Peter wasn't nervous. He calmly thought for a few seconds. Then he nodded. "Sure. I'll do it."

"What?" said Debra, Flash and Kong in unison.

"What?" said Gwen in mild surprise.

"_What??_" said Mary Jane in extreme surprise.

Peter looked around at the five of them. "...What?"

"Well, Flash and I are in this investigation too," Kong said. "We were afraid you wouldn't wanna join if we were involved. After all, we used to be pretty mean to you." Kong almost sounded like he was trying to talk Peter out of it.

"Well, yeah..." Peter said softly. "But, you haven't picked on me for a long while now. I figured I'd be mostly safe, right?"

Flash and Kong gave Debra a subtle sideways glare. She was the one who kept telling them to stop bullying people. This was the first time it had a hindering effect for them.

Debra didn't know what to think. She hadn't planned for what to do if Peter accepted the invitation. "Well... here's something important I noticed. Normally, Spider-Man only shows himself at night, but he made an exception on the day of Mr. Believe's shooting. That suggests Spider-Man was already here when it happened. And since the police confirmed the alibis of the entire faculty, Spider-Man is most likely a _student_ here at Midtown High."

This was a test for Peter. If Peter were Spider-Man, he would say something like 'he could've been here for another reason.' He would say anything to deflect suspicion from himself.

But what Peter _actually_ said was, "I never even thought of that before. But your reasoning makes sense. Spider-Man has to be a student here."

Mary Jane was quiet.

Debra continued. "So far, we've investigated by choosing suspects from different sport teams and checking their alibis."

"Why sport teams?" Peter asked.

"It was my idea," Kong answered. "Spider-Man's really strong and fast, so I figured if he was a student, he would try to take advantage of it."

"But his powers are superhuman--he would have to hide it to appear like a normal athlete, right? I don't see why he would put himself in a position where he could accidentally expose his powers. Spider-Man wears a mask because he doesn't want to be found, right?"

"...So, you're saying he can't be an athlete?" Flash asked.

"Well, I guess he _could_. But it makes more sense if he wasn't on any team."

The three investigators didn't know what to say.

Mary Jane winced slightly. _Peter, YOU are not on any team. Because of my dumb promise with Spidey, Peter's incriminating himself and doesn't even realize it._

Mary Jane was desperate to stop this, so she changed the subject to the first thing that came to mind. "Um, so what will you guys do if you do learn who he really is?"

"Actually, we haven't thought about that much," Flash responded. "We were going to decide for sure after we found him."

"We're mostly doing this for the sake of intellectual curiosity. We might not even do anything," Debra added.

Peter was confused. "You mean we're not doing this to turn him over to the police?"

"To the police?"

Mary Jane thought of something that never occurred to her before. "Peter... do you not like Spider-Man?"

"No, not really."

"What do you mean, 'not really'?!" Flash cried. "Spider-Man is a hero!"

Peter instantly got nervous and looked down at his food.

Debra pulled Flash back. "Don't let Flash intimidate you, Peter. I'm very interested in your opinion of Spider-Man. We all are," she added while looking at Flash and Kong.

"Well..." Peter was still afraid Flash or Kong would get angry again, but he eventually convinced himself it was all right to speak his mind. "It's not like I hate him. He just doesn't seem trustworthy. And taking the law into your own hands isn't exactly encouraged."

"Stopping muggers and bank robbers isn't exactly a crime, either," Flash retorted.

"Yeah," Kong added. "Spider-Man helped a lot of people. He helped _this school_ when that white mask guy showed up!"

"That's not what I heard," said Peter. "I heard the shooter was already leaving when Spider-Man provoked him into a fight. Innocent people could have been hurt. That's not helping. That's just irresponsible."

"He was trying to stop a murderer from escaping."

"But he escaped _anyway_. So Spider-Man put people in danger for nothing. And another thing: why does he hide his identity? If he didn't, he could join the police and get proper training."

_He hides his identity because it's not his identity to reveal_, Mary Jane thought solemnly. But she didn't make a vocal response. Nobody did.

"I admit Spider-Man is doing some good, but I still don't like him. He's just a loose cannon." The seriousness of the moment was broken when Peter sneezed.

The three investigators stared at their first suspect. Debra thought to herself, _Could this really be just an act?_

* * *

"It was definitely an act! Definitely, definitely!" Kong proclaimed.

School was over. Kong, Debra and Flash were walking out the school gates. Peter wasn't with them, so they could talk freely.

"Peter only said that stuff to make himself look innocent," Kong continued. "And I bet he agreed to our investigation because he's secretly planning to sabotage it."

"I considered that too," Debra said, with her eyebrows lowered in confusion. "But it doesn't account for the advice he gave about Spider-Man not being an athlete. That wasn't sabotage. It's actually good evidence against Peter. Would saying it be worth acting innocent?"

"It's what he would have said if he wasn't Spider-Man, so he _has_ to be Spider-Man! Wait, that didn't come out right..."

"What about that bashing on Spider-Man he did afterward--which still has me really mad," Flash said. "If that was an act, he deserves an Oscar."

"Well _I_ still think it's him," Kong said. "What do you think, Debbie?"

Debra sighed. "I don't know what to think."

The three walked in silence for a few moments.

"And _stop_ calling me that!"

* * *

Jason Philip Macendale Jr. leaned against the side of his truck in boredom. The search for Spider-Man and his suit was moving very slowly for him. And Jason's work as a glorified deliveryman hadn't done much to entertain him in the meantime. At this rate, it could take forever for the fake Kingpin to take out the real one. But Macendale didn't mind. He could be patient.

Macendale had driven his truck to an abandoned warehouse and two other men were unloading the crates he brought. Jason met with them often when he delivered weapons the organization stole, but he could never remember their names (That would require caring about them). He didn't bother to help them empty the truck. It was hot this afternoon and they seemed to be doing a fine job on their own. Jason half-listened to their animated chatting.

"Explain to me again why we're doing this in broad daylight?" asked the tallest.

"These are the fanciest weapons we snuck out of OsCorp in a long time," replied the other. "Rumor has it that Kingpin's making extra sure Spider-Man doesn't bust us."

"You and your rumors. As if Kingpin was afraid of Spider-Man. He's not afraid of _that guy_, is he?" He said it while nodding his head toward Macendale.

The mentioned man looked at the two workers, suddenly listening very closely.

"Nobody thinks _that_ rumor's real anyway."

"What rumor?" Macendale called out. He stood up straight and began walking towards them.

The two workers set their current crate inside the open warehouse. The shorter one waved his hand dismissively and casually said, "There's just this joke going around that you're pretending to be Kingpin and that you're planning some big mutiny. The guys don't actually believe it, so don't worry."

They walked past Macendale toward the next crate in the truck. Macendale looked around: nobody there but the three of them. He pulled out his gun and shoved it into the shorter worker's back.

"Somebody had to start that rumor. Who was it?" he asked coolly.

The taller worker was about to run at the sight of the gun, but Macendale stopped him with a glare.

"Y-You mean it was true?" the shorter one nervously asked.

"That's not what I asked you." Macendale pressed the gun a little harder into his back.

"W-Well I don't know! Everyone's saying it now. No one knows who said it first."

"Who do you mean by 'everyone'?"

"Everyone who works for Kingpin. Or at least low-ranking guys like us. The only reason you didn't hear it is 'cause you never socialize with people."

"Why is everyone talking about it if you don't believe it?"

"...I _guess_ somebody's actively spreading the rumor. I really don't know who! Honest!"

Macendale put the gun back in his pocket. The two workers ran inside the warehouse.

"'The guys don't believe it,' he says." Macendale narrowed his eyes. "Kingpin would believe it. The only reason I'm still alive is because he thinks I don't have a snowball's chance." He walked back to his truck. There were still a few crates of OsCorp's technology inside. "It doesn't matter who started that rumor. Kingpin knows about me, about Backyard and Quarter, and about what I'll do to him once I get the bio-suit. He probably set up a countermeasure ages ago."

Macendale opened a crate and examined its contents. "Well... if he knows what my old plan is, I'll just have to be a little _spontaneous_."

* * *

Author's Notes: Without even realizing it, I completely missed the one-year anniversary of when I posted this story. Some authors would feel a surge of pride on such a milestone, but all I can think of is how little I've written in that year. (Groan...) To make matters worse, I didn't receive any reviews for the previous chapter.

In the past, I thought directly asking for reviews sounded just plain desperate. However, I actually _am_ desperate for reviews so I might as well admit it.

My reviews so far were surprisingly positive and I _am_ thankful. But I want advice on how I can _keep_ the story good. To be precise (inappropriate for somebody desperate), I want reviews that answer two questions:

1: What's the best thing about this story/chapter?

2: What's the worst thing about this story/chapter?

Even when I don't admit it, I'm always second-guessing myself while writing this story. And I really think this would help. Thank you.


	8. Proof vs Truth

Posted: 3/13/10.

_**Proof vs Truth**_.

Gwen and Mary Jane walked into the school library and noticed a familiar group. Peter, Debra, Flash and Kong were sitting together at a table, each of them will a messy stack of papers in front of them.

"It's kind of surreal seeing Peter make friends with Flash and Kong," Gwen muttered to her friend.

"Yeah." _I wish it was under better circumstances_. Mary Jane was desperate to get Peter out of the investigation team, but she couldn't think of a way that didn't seem suspicious.

Peter looked up from his pile and saw them. He waved, and two girls sat down at the table.

Gwen saw a newspaper clipping with a very blurry picture of a certain costumed person. "Still doing the Spider-Man hunt?" Mary Jane briefly looked annoyed, but no one noticed.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, but we haven't really made any progress."

_How unfortunate_, Mary Jane sarcastically thought.

"The other day we decided to focus on students who recently quit a sports team," Peter summarized. "Any results, Flash?"

Flash took a piece of paper out of his pile. "I put a red X next to people who had an alibi for the time of the shooting. I put a black X for people that don't match up to Spider-Man's estimated size."

Peter took the page and looked over it once. "There's an X for every name."

"I noticed."

"But this is just the guys who _recently_ quit," Kong said. "Maybe we should look further back."

Peter shook his head. "The list already goes back to before Spider-Man's first appearance. Maybe we should try something else."

Debra looked at the two girls. "Do you have any ideas?" she asked.

"Not a one," Mary Jane replied without even thinking about it.

Gwen tried to be more helpful. "Maybe instead of looking at people who could be Spider-Man, you should focus more on Spider-Man himself. You know, get better measurements for height and body type."

"It's not that easy," Flash complained. He tapped a finger on the newspaper clipping. "The Daily Bugle STILL can't get a decent picture, when they have a picture at all. And the eyewitnesses are useless. Spider-Man never stops moving long enough for people to get a good look."

Peter said, "Although, those are witnesses who talk to the news. Maybe there's someone here in the school who can be better help." He turned to Gwen and Mary Jane. "Neither of you saw him then, right?"

_Don't drag ME into this_, Mary Jane mentally complained. _It's bad enough you're digging your own grave. Now I have to lie about how I DIDN'T see Spidey and_--

She stopped.

She fervently collected her thoughts, not even paying attention to what Gwen was saying. She examined her idea.

_I'm so dang stupid. The answer was right under my nose the whole time!_

"Mary Jane?" The others noticed that she didn't respond at first.

The redhead diverted her eyes, suddenly acting nervous. "A-Actually... I have a confession to make."

"What's wrong?"

"Well..." Mary Jane seemed reluctant to get her words out. "The truth is... I did see Spider-Man that day."

Debra, Flash and Kong leaned forward, suddenly very interested. "You did? Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"B-Because..." She looked guilty. "That day, I was there when Spider-Man started fighting that white-masked guy. I sort of panicked and I ran upstairs. When I got to the floor above, I saw Peter lying facedown on the ground."

Peter blinked. "You saw me after I was knocked out?"

"I wanted to see if you were okay, but I was like, spazzed out so I ran away and looked for another stairway." She lifted her head, and her eyes were watering. "I felt so awful since then. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to admit I left somebody behind. I'm so sorry, Peter."

"N-No, it's okay," Peter tried to reassure her. "Don't be upset. Everything turned out fine, right?"

"Of course!" Gwen put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Even if you stayed, there was probably nothing you could do. Don't beat yourself up over this."

Mary Jane smiled weakly. "Thanks, guys."

Debra spoke up. "Um, uh, let me see if I understand. Peter was on the floor above where Spider-Man was?"

"Yep."

"Are you sure it was Peter?"

"Yep."

"And you saw him _while_ Spider-Man was fighting?"

"Yep." _So there_.

Debra, Flash and Kong were all silent.

* * *

After school the trio was alone. This allowed Flash to speak his mind without restraint.

"I _told_ you so!" yelled a triumphant Flash. "I _knew_ Parker couldn't be Spider-Man." He looked at Kong's face. "But _you_ were like, 'No way, Flash. That alibi was so lame it has to be him.' But I _told_ you!"

He was enjoying this way too much.

"Okay," said an exasperated Debra. "We were wrong. I admit it."

"So the next time I tell you you're wrong, you'll believe me?"

"Don't push your luck."

"I hate to pop your bubble, Flash," Kong began, "but who do we suspect now?"

Debra pulled a new page out of her notebook. "Well, using the assumption that Spider-Man would like himself, I was thinking we could look at students who think Spider-Man is cool."

"Sounds great. Who's first on the list?" Flash asked.

"Actually... you are."

He blinked. "Me?"

Debra peered closely at Flash's face. "Where were _you_ during the shooting?"

"A-Are you kidding? You're not kidding..."

* * *

Peter, Gwen and Mary Jane stood outside the school gates. Pete put his hand on Mary Jane's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up over this. It's all in the past, alright?"

Mary Jane nodded. Peter and Gwen both smiled, and then they started walking home together. Once they were out of earshot, the redhead smirked.

"I commit perjury and one of the greatest acting performances of my career for him, and that's probably the closest thing to 'thanks' I'm ever gonna get. But the good news is--unless something _crazy_ happens--Spider-Man's secret identity is now perfectly safe."

* * *

Sitting side by side, alone in their lab, Natasha Quarter and Howard Backyard diligently studied the pictures inside an old middle school yearbook. Quarter turned a page and suddenly, excitedly, she jolted and pointed at one picture in particular. "There he is!"

Backyard followed her gaze. The yearbook was a little old, but the picture was close enough to the face they both remembered. "That's him all right," he muttered. "His name is Peter Benjamin Parker."

Quarter handed him a phonebook. "You use that. I'll look on the internet." She walked to her laptop as her associate greedily flipped through the pages.

"In just a few minutes we'll have the addresses of every Parker household in New York City." Backyard's eyes scanned the first page of the Ps. "It's a conveniently short list."

As Quarter typed on the keyboard she said, "Everyone wants to know the secret identity of Spider-Man and all it took us was that yearbook. Can you believe the Kingpin didn't want to buy a description of the kid's face? He's such a cheapskate."

"If he treated us better, we might have _offered_ him the information. Too late now."

* * *

Author's notes: I apologize for the long absence. Nine months is a new record for me. (Groan.) I wanted to make this chapter longer, but I've been busy with a few other writing projects. Such as...

Advertisement: I've posted a new story! _Duo Side_ is another Spider-Man fanfiction. If you enjoy _Dual Identity_, please check it out.

Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-Man.


	9. Partnership and Breakup

Posted: 8/01/10.

_**Partnership and Breakup  
**_

* * *

Spidey's life had settled into a rather comfortable routine. Wake up, go into the city, stop criminals, return home. Rinse, wash, repeat. There was only one thing that threatened to disrupt this cycle: Mary Jane Watson.

The girl made him promise to eventually tell Peter that he existed. "How long is 'eventually', anyway?" Spidey mumbled as he woke up. However long, MJ was clear that she didn't want him to put it off forever.

Problem: Putting it off forever was exactly Spidey's intention.

This was _Spidey's_ life. The way things were now, he was his own person. But if Peter got involved it would feel like admitting Spidey was just a piece of him. "And who wants that?" he said.

On the other hand, if he stalled for too long, MJ would get frustrated and tell Peter whether Spidey liked it or not. And since he slept during the day he didn't really have a way of stopping her.

Stressing over this wouldn't solve anything. Spidey decided to cheer himself up. He concentrated and the gelatinous suit covered his skin and pajamas. Once the costume was set he opened the window and crawled outside the wall. But something happened to interrupt his cycle sooner than he feared.

A flashlight's beam glared into Spidey's face, making him wince. It was so sudden he almost fell off the wall, but the beam lowered after a moment. He looked around for the source and saw two people standing on the driveway. Although it was long past dusk, there was a streetlight close enough for the boy to make out their features.

The one holding the flashlight was a woman with orange hair tied in a bun. She was next to a tall man with short blond hair. Spidey suddenly remembered being in a lab somewhere, with a gun pointed at his face and a tank of black goo behind him. These were the first two people he ever saw.

"What are you doing here?"

"We came to talk with you," Natasha Quarter coolly replied, "Peter Benjamin Parker."

_My middle name is Benjamin? That's even lamer than Peter!_ But this wasn't the time to worry about that.

Spidey jumped to the ground. "How do you know that name?" He intentionally didn't call it "my name," for a few reasons.

"When you were in Oscorp that day," Howard Backyard spoke up, "we figured it was because of Midtown's field trip. So all we had to do was look up your face in the yearbook."

The vigilante crossed his arms. "You know, I'm still really mad at you for that time you tried to shoot me."

"Well, _we're_ still mad at you for stealing that suit, so we're even."

Pause.

"Oh, yeah. It is stolen. I tried not to think about that too much... Okay, no hard feelings then. If that's all, I'm gonna go now."

"We know who you are, Parker," Quarter said. "We did our research. That's how we knew we'd find you here. We also know your aunt and uncle live here. If you don't cooperate, we'll just wake them up and tell them what we know about Spider-Man's secret identity. I'm sure they'd be _very_ interested."

As Spidey struggled for a response, Backyard continued with, "Even if you beat us up like last time, we'll just come back later. Or we could go to the police, or the newspapers, or anywhere really. True, we don't have any _proof_ that Spider-Man is Peter Parker, but the accusation alone will turn some heads."

They were holding his weakness by the neck. And to think, a few minutes ago he was worried about MJ. Spidey would gladly take her over these two.

"What do you want?"

"We have a lot to say. Let's go somewhere a bit more comfortable."

* * *

The comfortable place they had in mind was a 24-hour fast food restaurant. "Couldn't you have dragged me to a real restaurant? You know, something classier?"

"You know any that are open this late?"

"Well you could have at least bought me something more than coffee."

"Shut up. We're underpaid."

Since it _was_ very late they were the only three customers inside. They sat at the table farthest from the register, so there was no chance of being overheard. Spidey was no longer in costume. To anyone watching he was just a barefoot teenager dressed in pajamas, sitting with two people twice his age in white lab coats. In all they were quite an unusual sight.

But, hey, New York. Who'd notice?

"I'm sorry if we seemed hostile tonight," Backyard said.

"Apologize for shooting me first."

"Uh, yes, we're sorry for that too, of course. The thing is, we need your help."

"I'm listening." Spidey looked at the steam rising from his coffee. He gently started blowing.

"Your suit is actually a highly advanced weapon called a bio-graft," Quarter started. "Basically, a bio-graft is a method of using technology to upgrade the human body. But, after using the suit's abilities, you probably figured that out already."

Spidey didn't respond. He continued blowing on his drink as if he hadn't heard her.

Quarter glared at him for a moment, but resumed. "Backyard and I created it under orders from a very powerful crime lord called the Kingpin. But attaching a bio-graft to a person counts as human experimentation, so it's illegal. If our bosses at Oscorp found out about it, we'd be in a lot of trouble."

"In the past," Backyard said, "Oscorp Industries secretly created a lot of prototype bio-grafts, but the founder stopped it and made Oscorp strictly legit. It's doubly bad for us to be involved with this now."

Spidey kept blowing, completely indifferent.

"You _are_ listening, aren't you?" Quarter growled at him.

"Making bio-grafts is bad. Continue." The teenager cautiously took a sip of his lukewarm coffee, but he pulled the cup away instantly. Wincing, he reached for a glass of water and quickly popped an ice cube in his mouth.

Backyard and Quarter stared at the boy. "Just _how_ sensitive is your tongue?"

"And here I thought our coffee was a little cold."

"I _said_ continue," Spidey snapped. He couldn't blow with the ice cube in his mouth, so he opted for dropping a few more cubes in his coffee cup.

"The point is, we want out of the Kingpin's organization. Ever since we 'lost' that suit he's been treating us worse than ever."

"So quit." Spidey swallowed the melting ice cube.

"We can't quit extortion," Backyard deadpanned. "He _says_ he only wants one bio-graft. But even if we gave yours to him, I have no doubt he would just force us to make more."

"If we could turn the Kingpin over to the police, we'd be free. But he only contacts us through the phone. To turn him in we need to lure him out of hiding first. So... Our plan is to use you as bait, and capture him as he comes to 'collect' you."

"How do I know you're not letting him 'collect' me for real?"

"If we wanted him to catch you, all we would have to do is tell him where you live," Quarter answered.

Spidey considered this. "Good point. Okay, I'll do it."

"If you don't-" It took Backyard a second to realize what he really said. "Wait, you will? No complaints?"

"Yeah." Spidey smiled like it should have been obvious. "Don't you watch the news? Taking down criminals is what I do. It's what makes me, 'me'."

He took another sip of his coffee, winced, and dropped even more ice cubes in the cup.

* * *

That same night, Macendale parked his van outside one of the entrances to Central Park. He slammed his car door shut and walked through the gate. The best lighting in the area came from the moon shining through the trees.

"Chameleon!" he shouted. "Where are you?"

"Right here. I've been waiting here since I received your call." The Chameleon calmly stepped out from behind a tree. Even with this much shade, his white mask and spotless white trench coat were perfectly visible.

"The other day," the masked man continued, "you were supposed to deliver the 'aerial-assault glider' the organization stole from Oscorp. I noticed it never reached its destination. Nice work. With a weapon like that, you should be able to break through the Kingpin's security even without the bio-suit."

"Give it a rest," Macendale snapped. "Did you really think you could get away with double-crossing me?"

"Hm?"

"There's been a rumor going around the Kingpin's organization saying that I want to take over. There are only two people who could have started a rumor like that, and it _wasn't_ me. Care to explain this?"

"I did more than start it. I'm also the 'channel' that has been spreading the rumor ever since." He didn't sound the least bit guilty.

"What possessed you to do something like that? If that rumor reaches Fisk, he'll know I'm plotting against him!"

"He already knew that from the very beginning."

"What was that?"

"I've been telling him most of your secrets in order to earn the Kingpin's trust," Chameleon replied, calmly as anything. "But don't misunderstand, I still need you to kill him. That's why I didn't tell him about the glider. I started that rumor simply to motivate you into action. It was safer than speaking with you directly. You _do_ realize how dangerous it was to call me here, don't you?"

That nonchalant attitude was really starting to annoy Macendale. "If you want me to take down Fisk, you shouldn't bother earning his trust! If Fisk wasn't on his guard I'd have no chance of failing!"

"There is _always_ a chance of failing. This way, even if you die, the Kingpin will not suspect me. And then I can try again with another assailant. And if he fails, I'll try again with another."

Macendale stared at him in disbelief. "So I'm not your boss at all, I'm just your 'weapon'."

"That's right."

"You don't care what happens to me as long as I attack Fisk."

"That's right."

"You were pretending to work for me before, so why bother telling me now?"

"Because you _asked_ for it, didn't you?"

After a few moments, Macendale broke out in laughter. It didn't last long.

"So that's your game," he said bitterly. "Alright, I'll let you off the hook for telling Fisk, but not for free."

"You want money?"

"You've been using me like a tool. Well, real tools have to be paid for. Ten grand, or I tell Fisk what you really think of him."

"That's fine. I don't care about money. I don't care about anything except getting my revenge against the Kingpin and I _WILL_ get it."

His voice rose a little at the end of the sentence. It was the first display of emotion Chameleon had shown in a long time. But Macendale wasn't sure what emotion it was.

Chameleon's cell phone started ringing. He casually looked at the display. "It's Backyard and Quarter."

Macendale held out his hand. "Let me have it."

"What for?"

He grabbed the phone. "Because I don't trust you, that's what for." He put the phone to his ear.

"This is the Kingpin," he lied. "What? ... Really? ... _Really?_ ... Are you sure? ... Alright, bring him to the rendezvous point. I'll meet you there."

He hung up and looked over at Chameleon, stunned. "You'll never believe it. Those two idiots said they just captured Spider-Man."

"That's a shame," he replied. "If you got his bio-suit a week ago it would have saved me a lot of trouble."

Macendale grabbed Chameleon's arm. "Let's go."

"Why am I coming too?"

"I don't want you out of my sight until I see that money, traitor." He pulled the masked man towards his van.

Neither of them ever noticed the black limousine, perfectly camouflaged in the shade of a nearby building. The limo was too far away for the occupants to hear them, but not so far that they couldn't see the van driving off.

Wilson Fisk looked to his driver. "Follow them."

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own the Spider-Man franchise.


	10. Summary: Cogito Ergo Sum

Posted: 5/20/11.

Author's Notes: Today is the three-year anniversary of when I posted the first chapter of this story. I'm really unsatisfied that this story took so long. To be honest, I just didn't really enjoy writing it anymore. The muse for this story came and went a long time ago.

However, I don't want to leave it hanging anymore. That's why I'm ending "Dual Identity," today. Not canceling, but concluding. I've had most of the story up to "Duo Side" (the side story/sequel, already uploaded) in my head for a long time, so I've taken it and compressed it into six chapters.

The first five chapters are only summaries, but they're in first person so I hope that makes it a little more entertaining. Two of the chapters also have prose intermissions. The final chapter - the story's conclusion - is in regular prose format.

I wrote these in a hurry, struggling to make the anniversary deadline. It's not perfect, but I'm glad to say "Dual Identity" is finally complete. Thank you to everyone who read this fanfiction.

_**Dual Identity Chapter 10: Cogito Ergo Sum  
**_

_Summary: The Story According to Spidey_

I hear what people say about me. New York seems to be split pretty evenly into two factions. Half thinks I'm too weird or too mysterious to be trusted. A guy in full costume who spends his nights jumping off rooftops and catching muggers? Yeah, that's normal. I'm not very popular with that crowd.

The other half thinks I'm a hero. Yeah, he hides his face, but he's done nothing but good for this city. He never asks for a reward. Spider-Man rescues people out of the goodness of his altruistic heart. I like the praise, but they have got such a warped idea.

I'm not altruistic. Sure, helping people is good. But the truth is I'm a vigilante just for the attention. The first half isn't too off base. And I would never admit this, but I do not consider myself a hero.

I'm... scared.

For all intents and purposes, I'm Peter Parker. That's my secret identity. But I don't remember Peter's past. I don't know how Peter spends his days. I don't think like Peter. My personality isn't like Peter's.

Then... who am I?

I don't want to think about it. I force myself to not think about it. And that's why I'm a vigilante. I can lose myself in the night and the heroic deeds. I can vent all my frustrations into fighting criminals until I forget.

For all intents and purposes, I'm Peter Parker. And I don't want to be Peter Parker. I want to be myself. I want to exist as a completely separate entity. I tell myself that I'm another brain that's stealing Peter's body. And I don't allow myself to dwell on it too much... because I'm too scared to know how much of that is true - or not true.

I don't want to think about MJ, who's pressuring me to reveal my existence to the other me. I don't want to think about those two scientists, who only know me as "high school student Peter Parker." I just want everyone to shut up and leave me alone.

Don't make me think about him!

Of course, when Backyard and Quarter came to Peter's house and blackmailed me into helping them, I couldn't just ignore them. And that's how I found myself in the Oscorp Weapons Manufactory. I was going to be bait to draw out their boss, the Kingpin.

I never heard of any Kingpin before that night. According to those two, he controls all the crime in New York. He would be of no interest to me at all, except if he's arrested, there might not be anymore criminals for me to beat up at night. Still, I had to help stop him. Part of the whole superhero code, or whatever.

I waited in a holding cell, pretending to be unconscious. Outside the room Backyard and Quarter greeted the Kingpin, who was apparently a guy named Jason Macendale. Surprise, surprise, he brought company. The shooter in the white mask who almost captured me that day in the school. My first thought was, 'this was a good deal for me after all. I can get payback.' I soon learned he went by the alias 'Chameleon.' Everyone's gotta have a gimmick, take it from your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

According to plan, once Kingpin and Chameleon entered the cell to 'collect' me, I made my escape. Backyard and Quarter locked them inside in my place. The factory's security cameras caught Macendale on tape admitting he was the Kingpin, so once the police arrived, we'd turn them over.

I actually hated the plan. I didn't get to even do anything. Fortunately for me - not so much for Backyard and Quarter - Macendale had explosives hidden in his coat (why the heck?). He got out of the cell pretty quickly. At first I thought it'd be time for an action scene, but then I realized, I'm not really equipped to fight a guy flinging BOMBS around. Cue tactical retreat.

Backyard, Quarter and I escaped into utilidors built underneath the factory. We quickly got to the main security room and decided to wait it out until the cops arrived with reinforcements. Macendale and Chameleon didn't know their way through the utilidors, so it was easy to get away from them.

Backyard and Quarter put the whole place on lockdown, so the two criminals couldn't escape the factory. Even if they could, Macendale needed to destroy that camera footage before the police saw him on it. Macendale and the Chameleon split up and began looking for the security room (i.e., where we were). We had a perfect view of the whole scene thanks to the ridiculously high number of security cameras. I don't know who owns this factory, but he strikes me as the "paranoid evil genius" type. But you didn't hear that from me.

I thought this night would be boring. Boy, was I wrong. Macendale ran into this man named Wilson Fisk, who followed them into the factory before the lockdown. (According to Backyard and Quarter, Fisk is a famous philanthropist charity-maker or something like that. I never heard of him. Maybe Peter has; _I_ don't watch the news.)

Turns out, Wilson Fisk is the _real_ Kingpin, and Macendale is just some lowly henchman who was plotting to take over. In fact, Macendale is _so_ lowly, Fisk didn't even care about him. Haha, burn. But he did care about Chameleon, who ignored Kingpin's instructions to only observe Macendale, and helped him get new weapons. A double-agent that is untrustworthy? Who saw _that_ coming?

And so, Fisk and Macendale came to an understanding. They would stop hating each other, and _start_ hating the Chameleon. They didn't like how he was trying to play both sides.

All three bad guys found each other and did some discussing. Macendale would stop pretending to be the Kingpin; Fisk would _not_ skin him alive six ways to Sunday; and Chameleon was out of a job. Fisk was all like, "At least Macendale was honest about it. You? You were rooting for him to do me in while kissing up to me the next minute? Oh, no you didn't!" Paraphrased, of course. Fisk may be an all-powerful crime boss, but he's kind of stuffy.

Personally, I don't really see how he could trust Macendale, the guy that was _actually_ trying to kill him. I don't think they were totally square, but the point is he trusted the Chameleon even _less_ now. And that went double for Macendale.

Chameleon went into this dramatic speech about how he used to be the greatest master of disguise in the world, and he couldn't forgive Kingpin for letting his skills go to waste, using him as a petty gun-for-hire. Yawn. Maybe I wasn't so wrong about this being a boring night.

But during his speech, the Chameleon mentioned how he could become anyone, looks _and_ personality. He said anyone could do it; he just did it best. People change their appearance with make-up or wigs or fancy clothes. And they put on whatever facades they wanted. Chameleon said... that everyone was the same... that there were no "cores" to distinguish one person from another.

That... kind of struck a nerve in me.

Anyway, they got into a fight, and guess where they were. Yep. Right outside our door. Macendale's bomb went astray, and suddenly, we didn't have a door anymore.

So they found us; us and the security footage they needed. Everyone froze. I _so_ wanted to say, "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!" But somehow, it didn't seem funny enough. (Wait a minute, why do I even know that line? I never saw Wizard of Oz while being Spider-Man. Was I remembering something from Peter's life? Don't think about it... Don't think about it...)

Anyway, hell broke loose.

I was able to take down the Chameleon pretty quickly. Macendale, not so much. He had this remote control with him and brought in a weapon from his van outside. This metal glider broke right through the ceiling. Can you imagine? Like, BOOM! I've heard of tanks with less firepower than this thing! This was the weapon that Chameleon tricked Macendale into stealing the other day.

Macendale also had a mask and cape with him. He figured he could be a more dangerous enemy by losing himself in a new persona. Like I said: everyone's gotta have a gimmick. Not that I'm judging; I know _exactly_ where he's coming from. If Spider-Man is a superhero, then Hobgoblin was a supervillain to counter me. I gotta admit, he came pretty close.

Thanks to that hole in the ceiling, we took our fight outside. The police _finally_ showed up, not that they could do much against a flying tank. Of course, I - being just one (one half?) person - could do even less. I never fought a supervillain before; sue me. I stayed back in Oscorp and licked my wounds, hoping the cops could hold out.

Truth is... my head just wasn't in the game. I couldn't shake what the Chameleon said earlier. I kinda understood what he meant. People are defined by what they do... but they _say_ you can do anything you set your mind too. So then... after you peel back all the facades and gimmicks... what's left to make one person different from the next?

Underneath the costume, the wisecracks, and the messed-up memory... was I really a different person than Peter? Could anyone prove it? If not...

...Did "I" really exist at all?

...

My whole "life," I desperately wanted to avoid that one question. I was too scared to go there. I was too scared of the answer. But after everything... MJ's promise, Backyard and Quarter's blackmail, the Chameleon's philosophy, the threat of having my "secret identity" revealed... It was like a wall broke down. I couldn't stop my thoughts from moving. I couldn't stop thinking anymore.

I finally began to wonder who "I" was.

...

It got old _real_ fast.

* * *

_Prose: Intermission_

The Hobgoblin circled overhead like a vulture. He had taken a break from flinging bombs at the police. Now he was just enjoying the rush of power he finally had. Not as the Kingpin, not even as Macendale... but as the Hobgoblin. "The real him," or so he said.

Spider-Man watched him through the hole in the roof of Oscorp Manufactory. He stood alone in his thoughts. Wilson Fisk and the Chameleon were both knocked out, sprawled on the floor. Backyard and Quarter stood behind Spidey, worried by the chaos Hobgoblin was making.

"You think we're safe in here?" Backyard asked his colleague.

"No," Quarter answered instantly. "But we'd be even less safe out there. That Wing is the single most advanced weapon Oscorp ever produced. Not even Parker would stand a chance." They addressed the costumed hero by what they thought was his real name.

Spidey was silent. He might not have heard them. He only stared at Hobgoblin.

"You shouldn't try to fight him," Quarter advised. "It has to run out of fuel eventually. The police will take care of Macendale when it does."

Spidey still didn't move.

Macendale hated being an underling in a big organization. He hated being a fake Kingpin. The Hobgoblin was the first persona he enjoyed. He said it was his first chance to let loose and really "be himself."

"Hey," Spidey spoke up at last, though he still didn't face the scientists. "...All that stuff Chameleon and Hobgoblin were saying about 'true selves'... Do you think there can be only one 'true self'?"

"How many does someone need?" Quarter dismissively replied.

Spidey didn't respond.

He looked back through the collapsed ceiling. Hobgoblin flew directly overhead, cackling at the police, confident in his approaching victory.

Spidey felt numb to it all.

He had his answer. The answer he'd known all along. "Spider-Man" was just another side of Peter Parker... nothing more.

He decided to stop feeling numb...

_**SCREW IT ALL!**_

He jumped. Went through the ceiling's hole and landed on the building's edge. Jumped again, towards Hobgoblin's glider, and punched him right in the masked face.

**_I'm not a real person,_** Spidey thought. **_I don't have a past, or a name, or even my own face. I'm a mental parasite. I'm only a piece of someone else._**

**_But so what?_**

**_Who gives a damn!  
_**

Hobgoblin recoiled from the attack, while Spider-Man gracefully landed on the ground, unharmed. The clearing was heavily scorched by Hobgoblin's attacks. Beyond it was a circle of police cars and reporters.

The reporters went into a frenzy. Rumors of the 'Spider-Man' had been circulating in New York for weeks, but nobody ever returned with definite proof before. From their relative safety behind the policemen, they snapped pictures on their cameras.

Hobgoblin fired two missiles at Spider-Man, but he avoided them easily.

**_If a piece is all I have... then I'll use it for all it's worth!_**

Frustration... Thrill... Anger... Epiphany... Emotions rose from Spidey's heart like heat from a volcano. His chest ached. His head swam. He saw red.

Of course, Hobgoblin had no way of knowing these details. But he could still sense some mysterious danger coming from his enemy. He circled overhead, slowly growing nervous, trying to think of the best way to destroy this cornered animal.

The press and policemen were even more oblivious. They were consumed in their own excitement at witnessing the news of the century. Cameras continued to flash, capturing Spider-Man's image.

**_I can't prove that I'm NOT Peter... and you can't prove than I AM._**

**_These reporters have never heard of Peter Parker. They don't care about him. They don't want his picture. They want me. Not Peter... ME! Everyone here tonight is here for me!_**

Spidey was screaming inside his head. All of the thoughts he refused to think about burst forth like a broken dam. He felt overwhelmed, but he didn't want to stop it anymore. He clutched his head.

Something was building up inside him. It was more than euphoria... more than rage... It was an intense desire for vindication. It burned hotter and hotter, ready to erupt. But he didn't want to stop it.

**_I exist... As a piece or a whole, I exist... I've carved my existence into this city... No one can take that from me... I was BORN in this city! _**

**_I..._**

**_I..._**

The red and black costume bubbled across his skin like boiling water. He didn't stop it._  
_

**_I AM HERE!_**

The maelstrom of emotions reached its climax. Spider-Man roared. And the bio-suit roared with him.

* * *

Backyard and Quarter could see everything from a monitor in the security room. They saw Spider-Man transform into a mass of swirling spikes and tendrils.

"He's activated Rage Mode," Quarter noted grimly.

"Yes... He's become completely synchronized with the bio-suit. He can use its full power... but it will never detach from his body."

* * *

Every time Spidey put on the bio-suit, it connected with his nerves. That's how he controls its powers. The suit has a direct connection to his brain, but a purely non-invasive one. The suit had no will of its own; it could only respond to the orders the user's brain sent it. And just as Spidey's feelings filled every fiber of his body, they also reached the suit. In essence, his meltdown kicked the bio-suit into overdrive.

The tentacles soon retracted, making the costumed vigilante look human again. But Spider-Man's rage didn't subside; it only transformed. It was focused... Controlled. "Rage Mode" was an act of catharsis for him. He would let off whatever steam was left by defeating his enemy... He swore it.

Hobgoblin didn't allow himself to be intimidated. "If I can't get MY bio-suit off you, then you can just die!"

The glider launched the biggest bomb in the goblin's arsenal at Spider-Man. "Just die!"

"Like heck I will," he quipped, feeling a little more like his normal, fun-loving self. "It's my birthday."

Then Spider-Man did something he never did before: used webbing. A strand of his gelatinous suit shot out from his wrist and caught the bomb in midair. Spidey swung the web around and sent the bomb flying right back at Hobgoblin.

"AHH!"

It hit the underside of his glider. It fell through the sky leaving a trail of black smoke.

And so, Macendale lost the bio-suit, all his allies, his chance to become Kingpin, and his new weapon all in one night. As he descended, he clutched his head and screamed, "AGH! I hate my life!"

Hobgoblin and his glider crashed behind the factory. The police ran off after him. But once they arrived, they only found the remains of the Wing. There was no body...

* * *

_Summary: The Story According to Spidey (part II)  
_

I snuck away from the press and met up with Backyard and Quarter. Thanks to that night's surveillance footage, the police arrested the Chameleon and the real Kingpin, but the Hobgoblin was nowhere to be found.

As per our deal, Backyard and Quarter promised to keep my "secret identity" to themselves. They also gave me the disk which had the camera footage of me getting the bio-suit, back from the night everything started.

I took the disk and went home. It was almost dawn. I didn't bother looking for Hobgoblin. He could wait; he would have to. I was exhausted, physically and mentally. But there was one thing I needed to do before sleeping.

Once in Peter's room I willed the costume invisible, leaving only Peter's pajamas and the disk. I took a marker and wrote three words on the CD's cover.

"I am here."

I collapsed facedown onto the bed, feeling satisfied.

As I expected, Peter woke up in a few hours and saw the disk.

Also as I expected, he watched it. He watched it over and over.


	11. Summary: Second Revelation

Posted: 5/20/11.

**_Dual Identity Chapter 11: Second Revelation  
_**

_Summary: The Story According to Mary Jane_

When I saw the news report of Spidey's fight with that Hobgoblin guy at Oscorp, I knew something bad would happen soon. I could feel it in my gut.

But I didn't expect Spidey to disappear. While there had never been any pictures of him, there were sightings each night ever since his debut. But after Hobgoblin, there was suddenly nothing. There was no sign of him for two nights.

Peter still came to school in the daytime, but he didn't look good. I quickly realized that he wasn't letting himself sleep at night, which explained the lack of Spidey.

That was bad news in SO many ways...

And if I had any doubts, I followed him into the school library. I saw him check out the one book they had on Dissociative Identity Disorder (It was a book so old it was written back when they called it Multiple Personality Disorder. I only recognized it because I checked it out myself earlier). There was no denying it: Peter learned about him and Spidey. And apparently, he didn't like it.

I'm not sure how he found out. The plan was - or at least MY plan was - for me to explain it to him once I had Spidey's permission. I wasn't prepared to deal with him like this. Still, seeing him half-dead with sleep deprivation, I couldn't well do nothing.

Struggling to find a gentle way to break it to him, I eventually walked up and asked, "Does that book have anything to do with Spider-Man...?" Peter just stared at me - wide-eyed with dark bags that made his eyes look even wider - for a solid fifteen seconds, before finally saying - at the very top of his lungs - "YOU_ KNEW_?"

We were kicked out of the library.

Outside, Peter really tore into me, going on about how mad he was and how dare I keep this a secret and I had no right. Quiet, reserved Peter Parker could get angry; who knew? I tried to explain that I promised Spidey I would wait 'till he was ready, but that only made Peter angrier. He didn't like hearing me talk about Spidey like he was a real person.

I can kind of understand how Peter was feeling. I mean, it must be terrifying to find out that your body is doing all this stuff without your awareness when your asleep. It was only natural for Peter to want a "cure," and yet it bugged me that he didn't care about Spidey, who really WAS another person as far as I was concerned. I didn't think it was fair for Spidey to sacrifice his existence just so Peter could have a normal life.

It was strange. Even though Peter was by best friend's boyfriend, I felt closer to Spidey than I did to him. That's probably because I was the only one on Spidey's side.

And Peter realized that I really was on Spidey's side, so he gave up on me and walked away. I couldn't agree with what he wanted. He wanted Spidey to disappear... but deep down he already knew that wasn't likely to happen, with or without my support.

There was a new Spider-Man sighting that night. And I knew it wasn't because Peter accepted Spidey; it was only because he couldn't stay awake any longer.

* * *

Author's Notes: I may have mentioned this before, but the "Revelation" in the title refers to when somebody learns the truth about Peter and Spidey. The first time was when Mary Jane found out, and this one was for Peter himself.


	12. Summary: Fall Apart

Posted: 5/20/11.

**_Dual Identity Chapter 12: Fall Apart  
_**

_Summary: The Story According to Gwen_

I hate the feeling of being left out of the loop. I don't know why I hate it, but it's always been that way. That doesn't mean I need to know _everything_. There is such a thing as privacy. But you can't hide the important things from people you care about. If you do, it means you didn't really care about them.

Maybe that's an unreasonable philosophy, but I'm not apologizing for it. That's how I feel. It's almost like a moral code...

Peter started avoiding me one day. It wasn't gradual; he just stopped contact completely. I didn't think anything of it at first because I assumed he was simply having a bad day. Except it kept going.

Something was wrong, but he wouldn't tell me what. He was losing sleep. I didn't need to talk to him to see it. I might have been jumping to conclusions, but he seemed angry at something.

I told myself to give him three days of space and that was my limit. At school on the fourth day I approached him and demanded an answer, calmly but sternly. He brushed me off - He was putting less effort into being polite lately. He only told me not to worry and he'd deal with it on his own.

He never said "it's nothing." He always told me "don't worry about it." He was admitting something was there, but stressing that it didn't concern me. ...How couldn't I be concerned?

Mary was concerned too. Sometimes I noticed them talking together. Not the "what's wrong" "it's nothing" routine Peter and I were doing. Those two were _really_ talking, but about what I had no idea. As much as I hate secrets, I don't eavesdrop.

Though I did talk about it with Mary later. She confessed, she knew what was bothering Peter, but she couldn't break her confidence with him. Peter didn't want ANYONE to know and she only found out by accident. She apologized, I understood. I wanted _Peter_ to be the one to tell me anyway.

I wasn't mad at Mary... but I was jealous. It didn't seem fair that _she_ could know when Peter wouldn't tell his own girlfriend. For a brief moment, I thought they were dating - cheating on me. But they both denied it and I believe them both. And yet it didn't make me any less mad at the whole situation.

I didn't know Peter that well in the beginning. Before he asked me out, he was just a friend from school. Truth be told, I was only interested in him because I thought he was interested in me. I told myself, why not? But... I started to really like him. ...There was no specific reason or trait I was drawn to... I just liked him.

I feel a little silly saying this... we're only teenagers... but I started to think we were meant for each other. I hoped this would be a real relationship that lasted into adulthood. But then to see him suffer like that and shut me out... I became angry at him for not trusting me with whatever truth he was hiding.

I knew it was personal... It might even have been shameful for Peter... I knew I probably couldn't help, whatever it was... He might even have been trying to protect me. But I couldn't ignore the feeling that people in love should be able to tell each other anything.

I was being demanding and unreasonable, but I couldn't deny my feelings.

So I went to Peter and demanded one last time, angrier than I should have been.

_"I get that you don't want to talk about it - I GET it. But we can't really be 'together' if you keep shutting me out!"_

Peter's tired expression turned grave. He slowly lowered his face.

_"...Then I guess we can't be together,"_ he said at last.

Neither of us really wanted that. I regretted ever pushing him to talk, but I was too angry and self-righteous to withdraw my ultimatum.

Thus, my first boyfriend and I broke up.

Mary heard. She tried to console me - she also wanted Peter to open up to me and kept saying he was in the wrong for not doing that - but I kind of shrugged the whole thing off. I thought it would be easier to get over a breakup if I treated it like it wasn't a big deal.

I tried to stop thinking about Peter's problem. It was okay to be out of the loop now, because I wasn't involved anymore.

At least... that's what I told myself.


	13. Summary: Responsibility

Posted: 5/20/11.

**_Dual Identity Chapter 13: Responsibility_**

_Summary: The Story According to Peter_

The girl of my dreams and I broke up, and I couldn't even tell who was dumping who. All I knew was that it was all _his_ fault.

Yes, I helped. But it really was because of _him_.

I was angry, and getting even angrier once I realized I was using third person pronouns, the kind normally reserved for real people.

I would have given ANYTHING to make the whole thing go away. And to think, a few weeks ago I wanted to change into a better person. What the hell was I thinking? It doesn't matter what kind of person you are as long as you're _you_, right?

...There was another me inside of me. A side I didn't know about... A side I couldn't control... A side that put my body into danger every night and did things that were _nothing like me_!

I was crazy. This was the definition of crazy, right? People use the word 'crazy' so often that it's become desensitized. It's become a joke, "that's crazy." But it wasn't a joke for me. It was literal. There are institutions for people who do things like this. I was actually certifiable. My brain was fighting against me.

I couldn't let anyone know... _ever_.

This would destroy Aunt May and Uncle Ben. And Gwen... She said she could accept it, whatever it was, but... I just couldn't admit it.

I hated this.

All I wanted was to be normal again.

I stopped sleeping. I knew it wouldn't make me any healthier, but I didn't dare let myself switch places with _him_. I didn't need willpower or caffeine at the beginning. The terror alone kept me up all night.

Obviously, I couldn't keep it up forever. After a few nights I became so exhausted I collapsed on my bedroom floor. And after a few precious hours of rest for my body, Spider-Man was sighted in Queens again.

Sleep deprivation wasn't solving the problem, so I stopped. I bought locks for my windows and doors and tried sealing myself in. _He_ found the key every time. Once, _he_ hid the key from ME the next morning. I gave up the containment strategy after that.

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't ask anyone for help. The only one who knew was Mary Jane. And unbelievably, she was on _his_ side.

Mary Jane got furious when she heard Gwen and I broke up. She gave me a scolding, which I deserved. I felt bad for the way I blew up at her when I found out she knew Spider-Man. In my defense, I was in the worst possible mood. And now it was time for her to be mad at me.

She wanted me to tell Gwen. Gwen also wanted know what was troubling me. But I just couldn't tell her, even if it meant losing her. It was better if we broke up. I didn't want to get her involved in my problems. _I_ didn't want to be involved.

But Mary Jane didn't see things my way. She felt Gwen deserved to know, because we were in love. I... didn't know how to respond to that. W-We were just dating before, right? I didn't think it deserved a strong word like 'love.' Though... it made me kind of happy to think other people saw us that way... But it didn't matter now.

Mary Jane was also upset about my reaction to _him_. From her perspective, _he_ was a real, separate person. She said _he_ deserved a chance to live. I guess I understood her logic. _Cogito ergo sum_, after all. Though, I doubt this was what Descartes had in mind.

Deep down, I probably knew she was right all along, but I just didn't want to admit it. I didn't want _him_ to live my life, or even share my life. I wanted to keep my life completely to myself.

I wanted to be selfish.

I wanted to be normal.

If there was another me inside of me, then what did that make "me"? Even if "Peter Parker" was here, would I always be "me"? This was my true fear. I wasn't just scared of being committed to an institution. I was scared of losing "myself"...

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs... "I am here."

Mary Jane knew all of this. She tried to tell me that _he_ had the same fears.

I didn't want to think about the things that scared me. So I stopped thinking. But I didn't feel any better.

A little later after my talk with Mary Jane, Uncle Ben talked to me. I tried, but I couldn't really hide my depression from my uncle and aunt. Uncle Ben tried asking what was wrong, but I just avoided his questions.

Thankfully, he didn't press for details. But he did try to help. He started by giving me his tired and true catchphrase.

* * *

"You know what my motto is, Pete?"

"With great power there must also come great responsibility?" I replied dryly. It was a line I heard a fair number of times.

"Yes, but do you know what 'responsibility' really is?"

For all the times he gave this speech, he never asked that before. It caught my interest.

"Well, it means... you know, not being careless. Not doing bad things... right?"

"That's true, but it also means facing your problems. When something you don't like happens to you, you don't 'wish it' away. You take _responsibility_ for it."

"...I see."

"And responsibility is a choice, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"If you're forced to face your problems, that's not being responsible. That's just being forced. Responsibility isn't something thrust upon you, but something that you take on for yourself. It's something you _choose_ to accept."

"Accept..."

I thought about this for a long time. When I was finished, I wrapped Uncle Ben in a big hug.

He laughed. "Did that help?"

"It helped a lot. I'll be back by dinner." I ran to the front door.

"Where are you going?"

I looked back for just a moment. "To face my problem."

* * *

I ran to Mary Jane's house and asked to borrow a video camera. She knew what I was planning, and agreed earnestly.

* * *

I took a deep breath. "I didn't really-"

"Put on your glasses," Mary Jane instructed while holding the recorder.

"Why?"

"Because Spidey never wears them. It's a distinction between you and him. He'll like that."

I shrugged, and put on my reading glasses. "I didn't really plan this out..."

"That doesn't matter. Just say whatever."

I sighed, but it really was the best advice to get started.

"Uh... I guess I should apologize first. I've been treating you kind of badly this last week. I was scared... I didn't know how to deal with this... and... No, I'll just get to the point. Spidey, I don't like you. I didn't like you when I first heard about you on the news, and I REALLY didn't like you when I found out you were inside me. And that's probably not going to change. But... I won't fight you anymore.

"It doesn't matter how or why you appeared in my mind, because you're here now. And you're not going to disappear, no matter how much I wish for it. Conversely, you're not going to get your own body no matter how much you wish for it. We're stuck with each other, so we should learn to live with each other.

"I won't like you, but I will accept you. I'll take responsibility for you." I looked past the camera towards Mary Jane. "Is that right?"

She smiled. "That's perfect."

* * *

Disclaimer: "It taught me that responsibility isn't something thrust upon you, but something that you take on for yourself." That quote originally came from Silabus, of dot-hack/G.U.


	14. Summary: Third Revelation

Posted: 5/20/11.

**_Dual Identity Chapter 14: Third Revelation  
_**

_Summary: The Story According to Peter Again_

After Spidey and I swapped negotiations through Mary Jane, our shared life settled into a surprisingly comfortable routine. I bought a diary to communicate with him. I couldn't hear Spidey's thoughts - I'm not THAT crazy. So we wrote letters to each other every night and morning.

I didn't expect to, but I felt so much _better_. My life would never be the same as it was... never be normal... but at least I could act like myself again without fearing for my sanity. I did my thing, Spidey did his. It worked out. Although, it was a little nerve-wracking thinking about the risks he puts our body through, especially now that he's learned web-slinging.

He still does the costumed crime-fighting. I don't really approve of vigilantism, but it _does_ lower the crime rate, and it keeps him happy (and hence less likely to cause even more problems for me). Though I did set a curfew for him. We needed to get SOME sleep between our dual lives and my afternoons just weren't enough.

I quit Debra's Investigation Team. They were a little upset, though they didn't ask many questions. I just told them that I was too busy for it (an excuse which had the benefit of actually being true).

I began treating Spidey like a real person. I know technically he's just a part of my subconscious, but things work out so much better - for both of us - when we act like he's another guy who's just renting my body. What can I say? Mary Jane was right from the start. My "problem" was still there, but it was under control.

Although, I still didn't tell Gwen. We didn't get back together. Mary Jane didn't approve.

* * *

_With Peter_:

"You're both my friends, and it's no fun being friends with people who are fighting!"

"We're not 'fighting.' We're just not together."

"But you should BE together! Just tell her about you-know-what and your relationship will go back to normal."

"In what universe is you-know-what considered normal?"

* * *

_Later, with Gwen_:

"I can't stand watching two lovebirds act stupid like this! And his problem's already solved, so who cares what it was?"

"I know he has a reason... but I want a boyfriend I can share everything with, you know?"

"Have you ever watched a soap opera, where the main characters are _obviously_ meant for each other but just won't admit it 'cause of their stupid personal drama? Have you ever wanted to just slap sense into them? THAT'S WHAT I'M FEELING RIGHT NOW!"

* * *

I wasn't ashamed of my condition anymore, but I still didn't want Gwen to know. I wasn't sure she would get back together with me if she knew what I was. I wasn't even sure I _wanted_ her to get back together with me. I could accept a non-normal life now, but I wanted her to have what I couldn't.

I told myself it was fine this way. After all, I accepted Spidey. I figured I could accept anything life threw at me, right?

_"It didn't matter."_

...That's what I told myself.

With all of this going on in my new life, I had actually forgotten the Hobgoblin was still loose. But he hadn't forgotten about Spider-Man... He wanted revenge.

Hobgoblin wanted to draw Spider-Man out in the open. To that end, he took a hostage. In order to get the most attention, the hostage he chose was the police captain's daughter.

...Gwen.

Of course, Hobgoblin had no way of knowing Gwen's connection to his enemy Spider-Man; it was just a horrible coincidence. I wanted to keep Gwen away from Spider-Man's chaos, but she was dragged in anyway.

Hobgoblin hid Gwen in some secret location and publicly demanded that Spider-Man face him at Oscorp again. Of course, Hobgoblin also had no way of knowing Spidey slept in the daytime; hacking a news station broadcast wasn't enough for the message to reach him.

Not surprisingly, the police didn't want to wait for Spider-Man. The Hobgoblin kept his costume and several grenades, but without his glider the police were able to stop him. I wasn't there. I didn't want to get involved. I was too busy looking for Gwen.

Mary Jane and I went out searching together. It was a miracle that we found her, but we did. Tied up and suspended below the Queensboro Bridge. Hobgoblin left a small explosive attached halfway down the rope. It wasn't enough to hurt Gwen, but more than enough to cut the line.

The Hobgoblin remotely activated it when the police defeated him; just minutes after Mary Jane and I found her. She fell... I jumped after her...

_"Nothing else matters."_

It was the first time I switched with Spidey by my own will.

Instinctively knowing what was happening, Spidey caught Gwen, materialized the gloves of his suit, and shot a web-line at the bridge. They climbed up to safety.

...And that's how Gwen learned my secret.

I was "sleeping," so I didn't hear about it until after we switched back, but Mary Jane, Gwen, and Spidey had a long talk after they got back on solid ground. Gwen was mad, and I don't blame her. She felt that the fact my secret was _this big_ meant she deserved to know even more. Still, she understood why I was too nervous to explain it to her. Dissociative Identity Disorder is a big deal on its own without knowing your alter is a vigilante.

So Gwen wasn't mad at _me_. But... well... She and Spidey don't get along. At all. Again, I don't blame her. I've read enough of Spidey's letters to know tact isn't his strong point. Whatever started their argument, I'm sure it was his fault. And Gwen does _not_ roll over for rude behavior. Those two are just too stubborn to mix well.

It's funny. When I first heard heard how much Gwen doesn't like Spidey, I thought, "Wow, we feel the exact same way."

Don't tell Spidey I said that.


	15. Where They Stand

Posted: 5/20/11.

**_Dual Identity Final Chapter: Where They Stand  
_**

"Why, exactly, are you forcing me to go on a date with Peter?" Gwen asked.

"Because you two need to clear up the air between you," Mary Jane answered. "I'm a busybody; sue me. I'm tired of your 'I like him but my pride won't let me be with him' attitude. And he's no better."

"This has nothing to do with pride." Mary stared at her. "Okay, it _used_ to be because I was too stubborn to let it go. But things are different now."

"Exactly! You know the big secret, just like you wanted. You don't have anything to fight about anymore."

"Just because we're not fighting..." Gwen trailed off.

"You only want a boyfriend who's normal?"

"It's not that. I can accept that he has this... condition, whatever it's called..."

"It's called Dissociative Identity Disorder," Mary Jane answered, relishing the chance to be a know-it-all. "And I think it's the stupidest thing ever that they don't still call it Multiple Personality Disorder. With that name, you knew what it meant just by hearing it."

"Right. I can deal with knowing he has another 'him' inside him. I don't like how he's a crime-fighter, but I can deal with that too, eventually. It's just..."

"Just...?"

"Well... Mary, you met him too! Spidey is thoughtless. He's reckless. He's self-centered. He doesn't take anything seriously - or at least he acts like he doesn't. His ego is through the roof. He has no sense of responsibility. He's everything I hate and everything Peter _isn't_."

"Well, yeah, that's all true I guess. You just gotta get past that."

"You're missing the point, Mary. I feel like... I'm not 'allowed' to like Peter when I can't stand his other self."

"Oh, that's no problem. Peter can't stand him either."

"How does _that_ work?"

"Just remember that they're completely separate people... almost."

"That's easy enough to _say_..."

There was a pause. Then Mary Jane realized something.

"Hey. _I'm _ fun-loving and have a big ego..."

Gwen smirked. "Yeah, but you're not as bad as him yet."

"Yet?"

* * *

Mary Jane also had a pep talk with Peter.

"Mary Jane... I'm not sure about - "

"Don't argue. You're going on this date if I have to drag you there."

"Why are you trying so hard?"

"As Gwen's best friend, I am obligated to help her love life! And let's face it. You two will _never_ get back together if left to yourselves. This is an intervention."

Peter was silent for a while.

"I want..." He stopped.

"Too late! Spit it out!"

_She's almost as brash as Spidey_, he thought. _Maybe she's where he gets it from_.

"I... really like Gwen. But I'm worried. Even if things are fine now, how far can they go with... me like this?"

"You just worry too much. Problems don't happen until they do, you know? Besides, haven't you ever heard 'true love conquers all'?"

Peter seemed uncomfortable. "I'm... still hesitant to call it 'love'."

There was another brief silence.

"I've just had an epiphany," Mary Jane said.

"What?"

"I shouldn't be wasting time talking to you. The whole point of this date is for you to talk with Gwen. So... shoo, shoo, shoo! You'll be late. Go!"

"I'm going... I'm going..."

* * *

Peter and Gwen met at an outdoor cafe. They sat down together.

"So..." Peter trailed off.

"So..." Gwen followed.

Silence.

"This is awkward," he mumbled.

"Mary said we needed to 'clear the air,' but... it's just hanging over our heads."

"Yeah..."

More silence.

"Peter... Why did you ask me out?"

The question surprised him. He thought it was obvious. "Because I had a crush on you."

"For how long?"

"I don't know. I admired you for long time... Heh. In the beginning, I think I was jealous of you."

"Jealous?"

"You were smart, but, so much better than me. You were confident. Headstrong. Proud. And you understood people. And..." He sighed and gripped his hair. "It's hard to put into words. You were just so cool and... I kept looking at you. I remember thinking, I wanted to know more about you... But I wasn't jealous anymore."

"I can understand the feeling of wanting to know someone you like."

Peter hung his head. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize. I got carried away. I knew you didn't want to tell me about Spidey, but I was too stubborn to ignore it. I think being headstrong isn't all it's cracked up to be."

He nodded. "Gwen, what do you like about me?"

She thought about this for a long time. "You know... I don't think there's anything about you I don't like."

That surprised him. "But..." He let it go unsaid.

Gwen shook her head. "You're you. He's him. That's what I think."

He stared at her. Then he smiled. "That means a lot."

She grimaced. "Now that we're on the subject, I have a confession. I like _you_, but I... really, kind of... hate Spidey."

"I know. And, to be blunt, the feeling's mutual."

"You mean, you hate him too, or he hates me back?"

"Well, both, really."

"Why do you hate him?" Gwen asked.

"Well, before I knew he was... connected... to me, I just didn't trust him as a vigilante. By after reading a lot of letters from him, I've gotten to know him as a person. And I know he's not _bad_, but his personality just rubs me the wrong way. He's thoughtless, reckless, selfish, he doesn't take things seriously - or at least he acts like he doesn't, and he has a huge ego." Peter sneezed.

Gwen stared at him for a moment. Then she laughed. "It's like we're on the exact same frequency."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Never mind... Does he ever talk about me?"

"Yes," he answered, not seemed amused. "A lot. He only met you that one time on the bridge, but you really made an impression on him."

"Is that so?"

"I don't get it. Considering how much _I_ like you, I figured that would, I don't know, rub off on him or something. But it hasn't."

"What did he say about me?"

"He said... To be clear, this is _completely_ in his words and I don't agree with _any_ of it."

She nodded calmly. "Okay."

"First, he says you're headstrong. Well I said that too, but he meant it in a bad way. Also he said you're stubborn, bossy, crabby, irritable, short-tempered, inflexible, nosy, judgmental, you have a stupid name, you don't care about how you look, you pay no attention to fashion-"

"I don't need the whole list!" she exploded.

"I'm sorry! Sorry!"

They both paused.

"Well, I guess we're even, me and him," Gwen said. "And it's okay if we don't like each other. Because I'm dating you and I'm not dating him."

"So... are we dating again?"

She thought about it. "Yeah, if you're okay with that."

"I'd like that."

They smiled at each other. And then three police cars went speeding down the street.

"Of all times," Peter mumbled. He stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"It seems big. I should help. I mean - _he_ should help."

"So you can switch with him anytime?"

"We did it once. I can probably do it again if I try."

Gwen looked disappointed.

"You don't want me to go." It wasn't a question. "Are you scared I'll get hurt?"

"My dad's a cop. I'm used to worrying when he goes out. And considering Spider-Man's record, I know he can take care of himself."

"But...?"

"The problem isn't _you_ fighting crime, exactly. It's _Spidey_ fighting crime."

"I don't follow..."

"I'm sorry to keep bashing Spidey, but he's selfish and immature. He only fights crime and helps people because he thinks it's 'fun.' Do you really think it's _right_ for someone like that to be a vigilante?"

Peter nodded. "I see what you mean. At first, I was scared he'd stop helping people as soon as it got boring. Or worse, change sides. But then I realized he would never do that."

"Why not?"

"You said it yourself. He thinks it's fun.

"Responsibility is a choice. If you're forced into an obligation, you'll start to resent it. Spidey's different. He doesn't do good because he's weighed down by guilt or obligation. He helps people only because he likes it. So he won't be corrupted by self-righteousness or a hunger for power, because he doesn't have those. He's childish - simple-minded - but that may make him the perfect choice to be a superhero."

"I see," Gwen replied.

"Once, we wrote to me saying... 'If you think trying to help will do nothing... then not trying to help will do less than nothing'. For all of Spidey's faults, he's a good person inside."

"Yeah... Let me just do just one thing before you go." Gwen grabbed a napkin and scribbled something on it. She handed the note to Peter. He read it.

**Spidey, if you let Peter get hurt I'll kick your ass! -Gwen**

Peter laughed out loud. "I'll make sure he gets it."

He ran towards the closest alleyway, but stopped after a few steps. "Gwen... One thing..."

She looked at his back. "Yeah?"

Peter turned around and smiled brightly at her. "I love you."

Gwen stopped. She smiled back. "I love you too."

* * *

Life went on.

Things changed. Things got harder. Things got better. Still other things stayed the same.

Peter's daily life got hectic. Between schoolwork, a girlfriend, and "loaning" his body, he had no free time anymore. But he learned to live with it.

Peter realized, his normal life wasn't lost after all. It only got busier.

"Normal" is what you make of it.

That's what the three of them learned - No, the four of them. Friends, barely-tolerated acquaintances, and lovers.

Mary Jane Watson.

Gwen Stacy.

Peter Parker.

And his other self... the infamous adventurer... Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.

**_End_**.


End file.
